The Uchiha Heir and the Business Man
by FACELESSWRITER11
Summary: Business men are all straight lines when in the spotlight but when in the heat of desire bend like cooked spahetti. Heirs, however, are harder to break. Kisame x Itachi. Read and Review, thank you! :
1. Honest men

**I am proud of myself for writing this, I really am. Usually I don't finish a chapter in one night, and here I am writing the whole damn thing.**

**Rated M for Hidan's potty mouth of potty, tiny spoon of yuri and YAOI to come.**

**I am writing this while I have an unfinished KH story is because no-one has even seen the KH story, so no-one will mind if the chapter is late. **

**Please rate and review. XXX**

**All Naruto belongs to Kishimoto, a great man.**

**Enjoy.**

"Say, will a truthful man lie to prove he is honest?"

"...that's a darn confusing question. What's it supposed to be, a riddle or something?"

Through two elevators and two flights of stairs, going to room 478 and here you will find this conversation in progress, one man in stitches the other blue.

Literally.

"No, it's an actual question I'm asking you" The blue skinned man said, shaking his glass along with its alcholic substance.

The man with dark brown skin frowned, tapping the chair's arm with his index finger. Thinking over a question like this sent the mind in circles, and Kakuzu wanted his mind in no state of madness.

He brushed non existant dirt from both his shoulders, grabbing his black briefcase from his side and walked to the door on the other side of the room; only considering his work employee when he had the door knob firmly in his grasp.

"Tomorrow we will meet with Pein, he leads the Akatsuki company. This guy will not be pushed with cash alone, we need to look as if we have the balls to take on this project. Got it Kisame?"

"Yeh, see you tomorrow"

With the silent click the room was once again empty, a typical hotel room filled with things edged with gold, paintings that matched the wallpaper, and towels placed at every doorway.

For convience.

Kisame sighed, this hotel room gave him nothing but convience. As if he was an infant, special cuts on the peanut packets so he would not rush for scissors when his fingers failed at the stubborn plastic.

It made him want to puke.

Walking around the room twice and he finished his drink, noticing himself in the mirror that sat on the back of the cupboard door. His suit was all boxed and made his jaw look more square than round. Black hair streaked with royal blue was cut, not too long but still hid his ears and forehead from view. An unpleasant tone to his skin as if he'd recently died in a rather cold area of the supermarket. He had that shark charm to him that made him seem like the kind of person you wouldn't want to get trapped in an elevator with.

Kisame leaned forward to the mirror, pulling down the small bags under his eyes and examing his pupils that shone an unnatural shade of cobalt blue.

It was always the same thought he had ever since he was a child.

Why the fuck are my eyes so blue?

It wasn't a bad thing, but it had never been a good thing either.

The only woman he could sweep off their feet are the ones he saw for a moment, simply in the street or in a line for coffee at Starbucks.

No relationships for Kisame, only a love life with a string of whores attacted to a red head's little finger.

Sasori no Danna.

A friend who he had called amany lonely nights to send him someone to toy with.

Girl or guy, he would make them shriek.

From pleasure and occasionally, remembering one poor unfortunate girl with short blue hair and white contacts running from the room screaming as her fear of sharks kicked in.

Kisame was tempted to call his neutral friend, but decided against it.

The man was never patient, and a conversation that hung you next to a phone cable didn't seem like an act Sasori would commit to.

As bored as Satan himself, Kisame grabbed the television remote and dived onto the patterned couch, sighing once again as he channel surfed mindlessly.

Ads for dishwashing detergent, products that will get rid of grey hair, a vacumn cleaner that will clean in those places that you can't reach even when you stick your ass in the air.

Advertising, it was becoming a Big Brother obsessed with consumption.

The blue man worked in a high rank business where even Kisame himself knew nothing about what they did, he only knew about persuading snobby businessmen with a single smile laced with threats of beatings in a back alley.

In every work that made you wear a suit too tight for your broad shoulders, you began to learn that the world would eventually become a slave for consumption, New Media and other shit Apple decides to invent that is totally pointless yet completely necessary to survive.

The business man stopped as he found a sight that made him grin. Two girls, one with pink hair the other with blond, tongue fucking each other while in lingerie that could be found in any discount basket.

They moaned and screamed and begged to be treated like the whores they were.

He was turned on, but only slightly. The porn itself was completely grotestque, he'd always had an itch about cheap porn but this was plain sad.

Crappy lighting with the camera man's lunchbox sitting on the chair next to a massive dildo, it made the blue man giggle ferociously.

Being rich made you snobby, even with porn.

"If you're going to make porn, make it something worth watching" Kisame muttered, turning off the TV and letting his slight erection pass.

He walked around the room again, lying on the bed then realizing he wasn't tired. Strutting to the curtains and tearing them open, Toyko city faced him like a sexy oyster.

The place where his mother was born and he'd partially lived, Japan was a nice rest stop for a business man with no home.

Well he had a home, a million dollar apartment with a view of something he didn't have the time to remember.

All the fluroesant lights began to twinkle and Toyko tower was hiding timidly behind tall skyscrapers, lpeople now put on their cybergoth headsets as night approached with the orange sunset.

"I'm going to buy an apartment here, ma" The man said to his dead mother that he assumed was in the room with him.

"No actually. A little tea house, like the ones you always told me about, with the tiny cups and little handles. I'll make some tea and serve it to my neighbours. They might be morons but then again, they might not be. You'd like that, won't you ma?"

The phone beganing ringing, Kisame was pulled from his one sided conversation and glared at the phone in hate. Grabbing it in a grip of iron he growled a greeting.

_"Hey Blue Man"_

Hidan. Co-worker and complete asshole was on the other line, along with several other people in the room trying to get into the conversation.

"What the Hell do you want and how did you get this number?"

_"It's on the fucking piece of paper we got in the hotel room, shithead..." _

"Oh ok. Say, will a truthful man lie to prove he is honest-"

_"Don't you start with your riddles, fucking shark meat!" _The man spat _"Anyway, how's the Akatsuki shit going along?"_

"We're meeting Kakuzu tomorrow to go to a meeting with Pein"

Hidan scoffed.

_"When are we meeting Stitchy?"_

Hidan saw it fit to name everybody with a name that when screamed down a hallway, the victim would instantly cringe.

Kisame began playing with some pebbles on the coffee table, each said a word. _'Calm', 'Happiness' _and _'Love'_.

"Eight o'clock"

The pebble that said _Calm _was placed on its face and spun until it was a dark blur.

_"Fuck me, that's early!"_

"Well they're early people, I guess"

Leaving the phone for a moment, the hunk of rock saying _love_ was hurled out the window by a blue hand with absolute disgust.

All that remained unharmed from the trio was happiness.

_"Japanese people get up way too fucking early. I mean, the bitch with the towels went around the rooms at six in the morning! SIX! Who the fuck is even alive at six?"_

"Hey Hidan?"

_"Yeh, what?"_

"There is penis in happiness. Do you like happiness?"

_"No, but I know you do"_

"What?-"

_"Nothing"_

There was giggling on the other end of the phone, shushing and the slam of a door; footsteps steadily heading up a stairway to Room 478.

Hidan chuckled and said _"Hey Sharky, I never thanked you for the Konaha Project you fucked over. That was some good shit, you left that white haired bastard a mess"_

Kisame felt the pit of his stomach grumble, knowing that if the bastard thanked him he was really about to pull a move over him.

"Um... no problem?"

_"No really. So tonight it's my treat"_

"What are you talking about-"

Three steady knocks, perfectly timed with the phone conversation that made it no coincidence.

_"Enjoy"_

He was gone, a steady beep on the other line. Kisame assured this gift was no blessing, rather a thorn in the ass sent by the devil two floors down.

Without both collegues he despised, and a mother whose ghost never existed by his side, the blue man went to the door. Stupidly missing the eyehole, he opened the door to it's full extent.

**I wonder who the fuck is at the door?**

**Three guesses who.**

**Enjoy, and please R & R. XX It helps me with my writing so much. X**


	2. Sinning men

**Chapter II, I can't stop writing this.**

**A big thank you to Eye-Freak, Silverwoulf, sharonstar, Necoco-shi, Narinana and KyuubiChan321 for reviewing and favouriting. XXX**

**There will be YAOI, I think, I'm writing this prologue before I've finished it.**

**Enjoy, Kisame x Itachi fans. =D**

**XXX**

Before the door was half open, a thin hand darted through and grabbed Kisame's hand tightly.

Monster.

Thief.

An assassin Hell bent on finishing the Shark Man.

Kisame went to pull his arm back with all the strength that fear hadn't taken, to escape this grudge that wanted his flesh, blood and tortured screams.

Suddenly the door was pushed the rest of the way open, to reveal his unexpected visitor.

The monster that held his hand was around his late teenage years, but still had an essence of innocence left in his big round eyes darker than any night. Age lines marked his face and confused Kisame again about how old he was. The boy's skin was paper white against his thick black hair, tied back in a loose ponytail so his face was caressed by two long bangs.

There was a stone cold silence between them, the business man and the shota, stuck between room 478 and the doorstep.

"Um... Come in?" Was all Kisame could think of saying. The boy nodded and walked past Kisame, taking off his traditional wooden sandals by the door and walking straight to the window overlooking his city.

It shone brighter than any star he had seen, Tokyo's beauty could be admired from this view. He'd been to many rooms in this hotel but the boy knew this was the best view and the man who was coloured a pale blue probably didn't even realize this.

Kisame had held onto the door, like a wife held to her husband; unsure of the situation.

His deep blue eyes glided over the small body, the kimono with black and red patterns leaving most of the work to his imagination. He shook his head wildly, realizing the boy could be a client, the son of Kakuzu that he never knew of.

"Say" Kisame coughed, but the boy did not turn "Will a truthful man lie to prove he is honest?" He couldn't take this silence, even if he had to break it with one of his many theories. The business man adjusted his tie, it was a deep sea blue colour that went almost black went it got damp.

But alas, there was that silence again, long and tormenting. The boy could've been thinking or just not listening.

The phone rang, Kisame lept over to it in an instant. As soon as he picked up he heard the sound of deep, honest chuckling.

Hidan.

_"Like my present, Blue Boy?"_

Kisame remembered the knocking in sync with Hidan's last words in the phone conversation.

"Who is this kid?" He hissed quietly, looking over to the boy "Why the Hell is he here?"

Kisame was worried. He was always in charge of the situation, walking into a meeting of deal or no deal he knew he could always walk out the door and start again.

Not now, he was trapped and couldn't escape without clear answers.

_"I thought you would've figured that out by now, you dumb fuck. It's a present, a gift, from me to you"_

Kisame heard the flutter of cloth, but he assumed it was the curtains blowing in the breeze.

"What? How am supposed to figure it out you-"

_"How the fuck did you become a high ranking business man with a noodle like yours? Think, or just watch and enjoy, you dick"_

"I can't even-"

Then he remembered something, when he was looking out the window. It cut him short of his complaining.

There were no curtains in this room, only long blinds that were perfectly hitched up out of the wind's way.

The blue man turned, Hidan laughed on the other side of the phone as if he could see the event unravel before his eyes.

The boy once so innocent has lost it fast, the fluttering heard before was the red and black kimono now on the floor.

He still stood by the window, in the flattering suit he was born in.

Kisame dropped the phone, jaw hanging from just a thread.

Usually prostitutes had their genitals hanging in an unattractive way and everything was a painted mess, but this _God_ was different. Painted in such ways it would make an old man weep. All that white skin, no kind of tan could be seen. Small pink nipples, slowly hardening from the air conditioning. The ponytail ran down his spine and stopped halfway down, the curve of his arse a woman would usually have, but the length of his cock quite impressive for his gentle appearance. Black pubic hair all curled and cute. Long legs and ankles that just made it all right.

"I am Itachi. Here to satisfy your needs, free of charge"

The poor business felt like he was in surreal universe, and down his chin blood would run from his nose. He didn't know whether to move or stay, pounce or stalk his prey, so he just loosened his tie again and wondered why it was so damn hot all of a sudden.

All that the boy had said was a name, one _word _and he was feeling that familiar feeling. Kisame wondered what the Hell was happening, but was too preoccupied to care.

Itachi inwardly laughed, he'd seen men swoon over him but this was plain cute. A big burly (and strangely blue) man had fallen completely for the black haired angel.

"What is your name, or at least what do you desire to be called?"

"Kisame Hoshigaki"

"Very interesting name. Japanese I believe?"

"Urgh… yeh. My mum was Japanese"

"Mmmm… I see"

Itachi walked with grace over to the table, finding the pebble _'Calm'_ still spinning slowly from where the blue man had left it. He stopped it spinning then grabbed it in nimble fingers and held it close to his face, reading the text. It was curvy and grey and blurred in the beauty's eyes, but he managed to read it. Itachi wondered why they would write such a tranquil word on an item so cold to touch.

He placed it back on the table and walked around the room slowly, feeling an awkward silence fall again.

It was always there, before Itachi sinned with no regret. What he did was wrong, but had turned into what one could call an addiction. He loved being pampered, petted, and treated from head to toe by adoring lips that paid him to touch his porcelain skin. A tail of flowers, confessions and love struck clients would follow his feet, but the boy would just kick them aside like he would to a dying animal.

No sympathy, he had none to give to them.

They were greedy for his love, they wanted him all.

The past thoughts were dropped, like a pin to the floor, an echo of silence to folllow. Itachi pranced across the room with the grace of a deer, and placed his lips on the side of Kisame's neck. Ever so softly but so passionately, Itachi could fool even a trickster with his fake love.

Kisame pulled that tiny mouth from his neck, and closed the gap fast. The younger boy had to step on the end of his toes to reach the man. Their lips massaged each others in a fast rhythm, tongues seeking their partner to dance to a forbidden song.

The shark man could taste him, literally feel Itachi's delicious tender saliva coating both their lips. He tasted of rice and sugar, something that made him addicted from the very first taste.

Although suddenly the air became thick, the business man couldn't breathe and he began to feel faint. A million hands wandering down his stomach, to toy with a layer of clothing covering his-

"Stop!"

With a faint plop the lips left his neck, the hands didn't retreat from their place but remained hanging onto the belt loops. Two large -and not at all amused- eyes glared at him through a parted fringe.

"Um..."

Why had he stopped? He'd never stopped, even when he hadn't gotten his excitement up he still went for it. So why now, in this room, with this beauty, would he stop? Was he scared, Kisame could feel the pit of his stomach turning, the back of his hands sweating; but he didn't _feel _scared.

He looked down to the boy again, he had a pose that suggested if he was near a surface, Itachi would tap his fingers in a fast pace to show his annoyance.

Now Kisame has stopped, he could not say truth. Neither of the men were virgins, and had no right to act like them. Through work meetings, meaningless sex, riddles and rhythms and one way transport, he blue man concocted a lie to give to Itachi, the boy prince.

"Don't you want to talk a little bit before we get started?"

Kisame moved quickly to the seat he was sitting up at before, beckoning for Itachi to sit in the place opposite.

The younger Uchiha was not amused, to the slightest. Although he kept his mask on like he always did, and bowed in apology.

It made Itachi's stomach stir, bowing so low...

"About what exactly, Kisame Hoshigaki?"

Itachi moved away and sat on one of the black leather seats, bringing his tiny knees to his chest and exposing a puckered entrance. A seating choice of a child yet still held a sexual undertone. Deliberate or not, the blue man could think of nothing but what he could or would be doing to that hole.

Kissing it, tonguing it, forcing himself inside it as Itachi made a sigh as soft as a butterfly. So perfectly tight around him. He would be used to the stretched feeling but still would be as tight as the first time he was entered.

"Well… for a start, you didn't answer my question before? About the honest man?"

Itachi thought, patting his knees in a steady pace as he questioned the riddle. It was tricky, but not impossible. He was smart, smarter than his mother who simply married for a living and smarter than his father who simply believed in living like the out-dated Japanese. He was smarter than the University he went to, and the school he went to before that. Itachi knew he was smarter than Kisame Hoshigaki, and therefore knew which strings to pull to control him like his marionette.

"You forget, Kisame Hoshigaki. Why would the truthful man be in this position in the first place? An honest man would state the facts, and if his offenders did not believe him, he would let them disembowel him so his honestly was pure"

"But who would put their life over their morals?"

"As you stated Kisame Hoshigaki, A truthful man"

The riddle has been beaten, finished, done. The only puzzle that now remained was that slick smile on Itachi's face that Kisame wished to wipe off gently. He looked down at his almost empty glass and felt a feeling of emptiness. Who would've thought that Kisame himself would be tricked by his own investigation?

Also that a young boy offering his services would twist it around the shark man like vines.

Of course he would make another theory, although there wasn't any fun in it anymore. He could make a theory harder, but he suspected the boy could figure it out none the less.

The ice has started to melt into the bronze coloured liquid and made the alcohol watery and weak, he placed the glass down and silently sighed.

The beautiful man had just ruined some of life's little joys for the business man.

"I've had enough of talking, if you don't mind"

Suddenly there was a small weight on his legs, straddling his crotch and a right hand slowly running through blue back hair. Then travelling down the back of his neck and up to his light blue cheek. Itachi rubbed his thumb over the skin once, expecting scales like a fish but it being rough but with a smooth sensation.

He kissed his cheek gently, Itachi didn't know why he did it. His skin was just so soft when it should've been deathly, like a shark.

There was something about the Japanese boy that had the business man counting his seconds, trying to use each in an unforgettable manner. Of course having sex with this boy would probably be mind-blowing, but Kisame wanted to _talk_, and find out as much information as possible. He didn't want to _marry_ him, he just liked him and wanted to get to know him. Although it was like reading a closed book, all he got was the title and the appearance.

For once, this was a problem for Mr. Hoshigaki.

Itachi began biting on his neck, his hand slowly moving towards the rising tent in Kisame's pants. Hoshigaki moaned, trying to keep the conversation going. But when a skilled hand grabbed the outline of his manhood and thumbed what Itachi assumed was his slit, a thousand stars flew through his head and the hope of talking was a lost cause.

He bucked up, his crotch hitting Itachi and a surprised noise escaping the boy. His hard member was pushed against the other's stomach, a pleasurable pressure that made the younger rub against the clothed but firth flesh. He mewled quietly and began undoing Kisame's pants once more. Nimble fingers hurdling over the common problem of buttons and flies. Soon he was down on his knees, carpet burning his skin at his fast actions. Pulling out his client's erection fast from its place, quite impressed by the size.

Placing his mouth on the end, engulfing the tip and sucking softly, then running a small tongue up the blue vein. The Uchiha's mouth was small, but sucked, engulfed and massaged foreskin like the lips of an angel.

Kisame has thrown his head back, panting, unable to stop the ceiling from spinning. The boy on his cock was amazing, he had began to hum a tune around his penis, something Kisame heard when he was a child, in a sick way it made the pleasure more immense.

But then, their hands touch, briefly when Kisame went to pull Itachi's hair to make him deep throat his worthy length. Itachi had reached to place his hand on the seat, so he didn't end up toppling head over heels. It was a mere touch that made them both jump, something purely unexpected.

Two humans looking for lust could not hold hands, like a handshake with a promise, that touch will never be forgotten.

All they could do was fuck, nothing could happen. Everything had to burn, burn so the ashes no longer existed.

Everything that happened with a prostitute, even if she was an angel with wings projecting through glass windows, could only be forgotten.

Books could be written, and songs could be sung, but to everybody else it was all made up fantasy.

Like the single serve that Kisame was used to.

Although, after this epiphany, he saw Itachi's hand, still touching his own. Neither could pull away, like shackles that held them together.

Kisame looked down to Itachi, holding his swollen cock between his hands laced with pre-cum and saliva. A little speck of the white semen had found its way to Itachi's lip, just around his nose in a hard-to-get place. His hair was topsy turvy, as if he'd been turning head over heels for the last hour.

And his eyes.

So _fucking_ big, like big black pearls.

He just wanted to drown in those eyes.

Itachi _couldn't _pull away, even when he tried, he just couldn't let go.

His skin was so soft, so inviting.

Itachi's heart missed a beat, he wondered if this is what dying felt like. Completely absorbed, willing, ready.

_Committed._

Itachi darted from his spot, running softly to the bed and sitting crossed legged on the end. He had a look of childishness, but an undertone of impatience. Kisame panted, legs spread with cock standing upright, panting like a canine. His eyes moved firstly to the spot where the raven on the bed, holding his feet and wiggling his little painted toes. Then, he stared at Tokyo. Outside the window begging to be let in to flood the room with futuristic shapes and colours.

Although the windows opposite would have a clear view of a blue haired and skinned man pounding relentlessly into a young Japanese boy.

Kisame stood upright with unexpected energy. He strode to the window quickly and held the chord to shut the blinds.

But stopped.

He stepped away from the curtain, suddenly losing a sense of dignity he once had. The elder strained himself to think why he would do such an act, but again Itachi wiped his being and goals and only gave him one purpose.

Here.

Now.

Two men offering each other everything and anything in the forms of sex and lust.

Hard and heavy, no mercy or turning back.

Letting their emotion out into their other.

"I wouldn't usually beg" Itachi said, interrupting. He let one finger, that index finger that touched and teased, slowly be engulfed by his hungry entrance. "But please, dominate me, Kisame Hoshigaki. I am very patient but I am not one to watch paint dry"

**Did I screw up? I really hope I did not.**

**Please Read and Review, and thank you to those who have!**

**Buhbye.**

**XXX**


	3. Confused men

**Yeh, it's been awhile.**

**Sorry, is all I can say. Had distractions the size of Utopia. Seriously.**

**There will be YAOI which is why it is rated M, if you can't deal with the sexiness of it all then have a cup of tea, and then read it.**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I would list you again but I the internet is currently down I really appreciate your reviews and that you enjoy this story. **

**Enjoy. X**

Kisame Hoshigaki woke with the prologue of a small hangover and sleep crusting his eyes, as graceful as a ballet dancer born with two left feet.

There were no colourless rays flitting through the blinds to butterfly kiss his eyelids, no seductive hand fondling the goods between his legs.

The world was woven into unnatural unconsciousness that would expect to be found in a faerie tale. The room was hidden in harsh shadows; a poignant world between yesterday and today the shark man had faced so many times before; usually treated with small white pills that knocked him out before he could count to ten. Japan's animated night life had begun to unwind, creatures of the light descended back into the darkness as the sun threatened to approach with haste.

He let a yawn escape his widened mouth and stretched when he knew he would sleep no more, swatting blindly for the glass of water he'd placed by his beside several hours prior. When his hand found nothing, he grumbled and rolled to his right and almost hit the canopy of the bed and withdrawer hastily to make a gap between himself and the mysterious ghoul.

Almost paralyzed with fear, Kisame swatted his quivering limb again around the supposedly empty space next to him.

Then he remembered, slowly but surely, the body next to him laced in expensive cotton.

That's right, he remembered now.

_He was a man starved of the sweet, delicious liquid that only can from the pores of the splendor he hunted. He stumbled as he tried to run, trapped in an eternal circle chasing an oasis that made his cock stand with yearning._

_"Kisame Hoshigaki, please hurry"_

_Itachi sounded far off, as if he was calling through the mist that caressed his tainted skin. Kisame tried to call back but his body couldn't find the energy to move his lips. _

_Hopeless._

_Foolish._

_He'd heard of amazing foreplay but this was something entirely different. Had he fallen through a rabbit hole or had he only lost his mind? _

_This was torture, every minute he held on he knew it would be his last and he would spill his ashen seed on the chocolate brown carpet as he called through the mist for someone that never existed._

_Was it all a dream? Was Itachi a cauldron-made child, devised from the best parts of everything the blue man had seen and heard? A red and black cherry blossom midst the white and pink? _

_Kisame always loved individuality._

_Then, a minute he knew was his last, his outstretched hands felt over silk sheets and found a thigh._

_Some may have thought of it as _only _a thigh but the man could've cried with joy. Tender, silky flesh he could feast upon. The larger man ravished the skin with wet kisses, feeling the touch of marble under his enthusiastic tongue. Itachi held his position as Kisame adorned his leg, the desperate man biting at the bones of his knees like a starving canine._

_The younger left his fingers travel downwards and rubbed his arousal with two digits, groaning as he slowly came to life under his own hand._

_Itachi presumed that it would be one sided pleasure, Kisame would fuck him raw and then summon his pet to suck his length until Itachi tasted unrefined fish on his tongue. _

_The Japanese man sighed, unaware of his client at the current instant as he stole a moment for himself. _

_Becoming bored of the effortless flesh, Kisame grabbed the knees of his prey and pushed them apart with no hesitation. If the other man had been looking, he would've seen the rare sight of a subtle pink tinge finding residence on Itachi's usual white cheeks from the sudden exposure._

_Then, he let out a gasp combined with a squeal, his knees instantly buckling inward like an innocent schoolgirl._

_Kisame forced his tongue inside him, enchanted at the reaction that he drew out of the boy. Biting the hole gently, his soft organ running spirals around the puckered entrance that began to twitch from withdrawal. Itachi's cock, balls, anything that was called everything brushed past blue skin that had the texture of smooth beach pebbles. He arched upward to try and turn his aroused manner into a simple tingle down his spine, but as his client persisted onto biting _too_ gently onto his sensitive left testicle that he held in his smooth, soft hands he knew it was out of his control._

_"K-kisame!"_

_It felt inappropriate, crying out the name of his client. It seemed only something teenagers or lovers would do, a blood curdling yodel as they moaned their partner's name. Although however hard Itachi tried to pant "Hoshigaki" to keep the distance he'd made between them in place, the formal greeting was pushed down his throat by the tongue that had just entered him._

_Itachi -being sure he'd flown far over the cuckoo's nest- grabbed locks of dark blue hair and tasted himself with disgusting curiousity._

The older man looked down at his hands in the moonlight, and saw a thin layer of white coating over his fingers and palms. It made the business man feel on edge, a sight of untidiness that made him squirm. Although rather than moving to clean the juice from his fingers, he thought again about the doings prior to his own.

_The larger of the two was forced onto his back as Itachi has just been, ten blunt nails running down baby blue thighs. He arched his back and groaned but pushed down again with unexpected strength._

_Itachi moved from his face between Kisame's strong legs and crawled up his body like a Japanese Grudge. He spoke no words, just stared intently into Kisame's eyes as if searching for something. Kisame stared back and tried to steady his pants as his erect cock was hugged between two delicate cheeks that tightened around his length intentionally._

_"Why is your skin this colour?"_

_The question was so abrupt it caught Kisame off guard, even though he'd heard it more than a thousand times. Most tried to ask with subtle questions on his heritage and parents, although Itachi had no time for such stupid wanderings. Kisame had been expecting dirty nothings whispered to him, although he know this man was different from every other that had served him. Maybe they were all like this in Japan?_

_An answer needed a question, a question needed to be asked to find an answer; simple as that to a Uchiha._

_"Urgmm..." However, to every question asked relating his colour, Kisame could only say "...I guess I had some kind of allergic reaction as a child, maybe my genes are wrong? Although it matches my name, haha"._

_'What a deranged fool' was all Itachi though before climbing down his client once more and taking his stupid cock in his mouth. _

_Itachi despised the taste, the job of sucking this man's dick wasn't too appealing either, although he hummed happily as the soft skin of Kisame's thighs brushed against his full cheeks._

_It almost made the job enjoyable._

_Hands found long black hair and tugged, the owner of said hair winced in anger but continued._

_"Ah... ffucckk, 'Tachhhi..."_

_A middle finger circled his entrance, the other digits had been fingering his balls. His spare hand and mouth were running over his cock, and a curious tongue forced its way into his slit._

_Ribbons of white shot from him, Kisame moaned and threw his sweat covered forehead back after an amount of time Kisame couldn't recall. Itachi jammed his teeth shut as soon as he felt his mouth full of warm cum. He tried to swallow, but his throat forced it back through his white lips and onto his hands covering his mouth. _

_He always hated drinking the body fluids of strangers, it made him feel dirty._

_Kisame panted and leaned upward, facing the boy with his seed dripping down his hands and onto his lap._

_"Forgive me, I was never good at swallowing" _

_And for some reason, Kisame Hoshigaki smiled like he'd swallowed the sun._

Kisame didn't know why he smiled, it had been embarrassing for Itachi and awkward for himself. Moments like that were supposed to be hidden behind stained glass windows that placed the beauty on display, so why did he want to show the little mistake to the world as it it were a rose that bloomed from an apple tree?

Pulling himself from the warm montage of memories, the elder let his eyes adjust to the darkened room. His suit was boxed out, crumbled but still holding some of its shape; bits of it scattered around in a pathway to the bed. A pair of wooden sandals at the door, a piece of flowered material dancing with the wind that flew in from the partly open windows. Itachi was sewn into the sheets like beautiful tapestry, the boys eyes were half lidded as he pretended to doze and felt the bed move from Kisame's actions.

There was an ache running down his thighs, a pain that would hurt for several days while his teared entrance recovered from the doings of the night that still lingered in the air around them.

Recovering the sweat stained events, Itachi looked over them once more, desperately trying to figure out an answer to his question.

_"H-huge..."_

_It had been moderate in his mouth, now buried deep inside him Itachi could feel the large length aiming for his prostate. Kisame was positioned behind his deflowered doll, watching the boy's hole devour his cock with no hesitation. Itachi was sure that he felt blood trickle down his leg but knew his mind was playing tricks on him, this wasn't a dagger in his skin merely flesh on flesh. _

_When Kisame heard Itachi mutter the compliment, he smiled and slammed himself down into the smaller man. Itachi shrieked and his face hit the mattress, internally begging Kisame to go faster until the blue man was fully inside Itachi, tearing him to bloody shreds._

_"Pl-plea-.."_

_Hoshigaki's thrusts were slow and paced, his eyes shutting momentarily to experience Itachi's tightness surrounding his manhood in a unbreakable grip._

_"You're so tight..." Kisame moaned in a husky voice caused by the alcohol still lingering in his throat "... I don't think I can last with you like this"._

_Itachi was dazed, eyes drooped as a trickle of drool ran down his chin and darkened the satin sheets. He forced his rear in the air to meet the thrusts, begging for his prostate to become a site of abuse. _

_He knew he would have to beg for Kisame to speed up, although getting the syllables from his tongue tied mouth would prove a challenge._

_"K-Kisam... f-fastre"_

_Kisame let out a pant that was made into a chuckle._

_"So you're that... Ah! Kind of guy" The sound of his balls hitting the red skin of Itachi's soft rear could be heard from just outside the door._

_"You like it faster, ratherrrrrh! Than... harder. That means..." A white haired passerby cackled as he pressed his ear against the door, then skipped back two flights of stairs in a drunken haze._

_"...that you d-don't come easy, nnne?"_

_At that point, Itachi saw stars. Kisame had found his bundle of nerves and slammed himself to hit it dead on. Like a hammer slamming the point to hit the bell, the bell rang and rattled through Itachi's ears and caused his left arm to suddenly give way. Kisame came to a quick stop and grabbed his angel's arm, steadying it and stroking the thin wrist before starting his faster rhythm once more._

_Itachi tried to reason that Kisame had done it for himself._

Although even now, his arm remained untwisted thanks to Kisame Hoshigaki.

Why did he do it?

For Itachi's benefit, or his own?

The larger man next to him sighed from an emotion Itachi couldn't pinpoint, and turned himself to face the confused heir. The Uchiha remained still and knew that Kisame would presume he slept as he'd intended it to be.

The man that displayed shark features had also been thinking of last night, he'd tried to focus on the traditional Asian paintings on the wall but knew that was possible.

Because his eyes couldn't have been that colour...

_It had been hours, minutes, seconds and days. Itachi was now facing his client that he felt like had turned into so much more._

_His climax was threatening to overcome him, the Uchiha knew he could only last several minutes more of this pure pleasure that ran through his veins like liquid gold._

_Kisame held Itachi's knees, pounding deeply into the man beneath him; determined to pull away the masquerade mask Itachi wore so he could pear at his inner beauty. Only a second's glance would be enough, a crack he could force his fingertips into so that over time, he would discard the troublesome burden._

_Although Kisame knew he didn't _love _him, he just wanted to get to know Itachi. He didn't want to _marry _him or anything, so he certainly didn't love him._

_It was just curiousity..._

_After this train of thoughts, several actions caused reactions that caused one sided questions and answers to arise. _

_Kisame thrusted faster than before, grabbing his victim's leaking appendage and running his hand over the foreskin and thumbing his slit. Itachi started panting like a canine in heat, recognizing the drooping of his eyelids and the aching in his arms that had been steadying him for however long they'd been pleasuring each other._

_Hoshigaki was far from impressed, he didn't want the boy to _just_ cum._

_He wanted him to lose control, to completely discard everything and anything and let him in deeper than anyone had been._

_Feeling his orgasm approach, Kisame Hoshigaki decided to overrule his moral of kindness to prostitutes this once for a reason unknown even to himself._

_So, in an act of desperation, he latched omivore's teeth into the shoulder of the Uchiha prodigy and bit as hard as his jaw would allow him to._

_Muscles tensed, veins avoided white calcuim and the steady suck of an eager tongue on fresh blood had the business man wondering why he was playing with such hot fire._

_The result was better than expected._

_Itachi's coil snapped he shrieked louder than a kettle on the boil, his cry transcending into a deep moan that dripped from his mouth. He bucked his hips up and silver ribbons darted from his tip and stuck to sweat covered skin like feathers and sickly sweet honey._

_Kisame kept his mouth latched onto his shoulder, tasting iron blood tickling his tongue. Itachi hated pain, he despised being injured; so why did this man's sharp teeth feel like massaging fingers on his tense shoulders? The surprising act had pushed him over the edge, now he rode his orgasm out on Kisame's cock and felt a pang of shame haunt his actions._

_He'd never been so emotional around his clients._

_The sooner he got out, the better._

_Hoshigaki grabbed a handful of hair so both men faced each other._

_Kisame's blue eyes were dilated, but that was not important._

_Itachi Uchiha's eyes shined a deep red unlike the black pearls from before, and that was certain._

_And as he came hot white sperm in the entrance of someone the business-man thought was _only _a prostitute, he kissed Itachi with tongues and teeth and blood and spit and sperm._

_Kisame wanted the ultra eyed lover to remain here, and not become fantasy as soon as he vanished._

His eyes, had they really been as red as the blood they shared on their tongues?

Did he really _like like _Itachi, whose surname was a mystery?

Could he really stall a man with eyes like ice and fire to stay just abit longer in the warmth of his client's arms?

"I must be leaving"

The elder hadn't even noticed the small boy awakening, or even the light of dawn slowly approaching the world like judgement day.

Itachi glared at the small spots of light pooling on his lap, rising quickly to retrieve his komono; patting out the crinkles and slipping it upon his noble flesh. He acted skillful as he obtained his items from across the room, but all too fast for Kisame's liking. His Cinderella was dashing down the ballroom steps with both slippers on his dainty feet, soon to be out of sight of the desperate prince.

"Wait!" The blue haired man leaped from the bed and fell to the ground; his sheet castrated his right leg in a serpent's grip. Itachi didn't so much as look at the struggling man, but picked up the pebble named _calm_ he'd caressed several hours prior as Kisame still struggled in his satin shackles. This was mere cheerio was all too corny for Itachi's liking, yet he knew this kind of new age merchandise shit was the kind of thing his brother adored. The young heir placed the pebble in his pocket, it made a subtle weight along with the payment from the white haired man for the night.

Kisame finally escaped from the soft grip, he dashed across the floor to face Itachi's spine. His mouth found the abused strip of tendered flesh that he'd ravished with sharp teeth hours before. Deep plum and crimson colours circled in a marbled design under his skin and the deep red teeth marks; it made the Kisame feel slightly guilty, although equally confused him as to why he was feeling sorry for a whore.

The darker male kissed his neck, adored it with soft butterfly pecks as a silent apology to make him stay.

"The sun's just rising, you don't have to leave"

"Yes, I do"

"Care for breakfast, my treat?"

"No, thank you"

"Can I book another appointment then?"

"No".

Plain and simple like it was scrawled on the wall beside them with deep dark acrylics.

For convenience, of course.

Kisame stood tall, but there was something inside him that wanted his knees to buckle and collapse like crumbling buildings. He couldn't find an expression to wear that would hide is disappointment.

"Oh"

Another single word, this time written in such small letters that it huddled in the corner unnoticed and unseen.

Although Uchiha's were good at seeing the things others didn't, and Itachi wished he'd never heard the single syllable like Kisame wished he hadn't heard the rude refusal.

For the first time in a long while, Itachi felt guilt knawing at his ankles.

For the first time, a client had accepted their lonesome fate rather than grabbing Itachi's pale skin and binding him to their sleeping quarters.

The man bowed his head full of satin black hair, Kisame reached out to touch it for the last time.

It felt like horse hair, and was more firm than soft.

After Itachi pulled himself up his eyes were dark once more, like black pearls hidden beneath tonnes of ocean water, his pupils nothing near red.

"I'm sorry, I hope you have a nice day in Japan"

The door of room 478 closed silently at 4:37 on a cold Tuesday morning, the man whose name was Kisame Hoshigaki stood waiting for an explanation that would never arrive.

A high ranking prostitute called Itachi Uchiha longed to leave his guilt by the door of room 478, but knew that the teeth of this monster had only just began to feast.

**Reviews? Advice?**

**Did you like it? This chapter took me ages, I rewrote it three times.**

**Hope you like it.**

**I hope you have a nice day. x**


	4. Lovely men

**Firstly, sorry. This chapter was a pain to write. Full stop. I had writers block and school, and some more writers block. It was my birthday yesterday so I had a tea party, just thought I'd let you know.  
Secondly, thanks. To those who have stayed to read, I really appreciate it.  
Thirdly, still rated M. Hidan is a potty mouth and other things. Naruto belongs to Kishimoto.  
Thank you.  
XXX **

Kisame Hoshigaki hid in the shadows. He sat, with his head bent low and his legs spread apart supporting his arms. Pearl blue skin was still tainted, his naked body marked with the visual stench of the man that had left. The man avoided the shards of light, he couldn't become one with with the new dawn just yet; not after what happened.  
It was a beautiful sunrise that had taken away someone he couldn't understand. The someone was something he felt he needed back now, even just to talk rather than commit sodomy. Itachi had left, and had taken something apart from the meaningless pebbles.  
Something Kisame couldn't quite interpret.

He felt unable to move, a prisoner between light and dark, constantly wandering in this illusion he created until somebody knocked on the door and freed him from his own insanity.  
He secretly wished Itachi would return for another pebble, a sum of money, a reason for him to have his small fist connect with the wooden door so the desperate man could answer faster than the speed of light. Then he could stall him, and they could talk about unimportant things.  
Kisame just wanted to talk, anything would be fine but talking sounded nice. But why? Why was he so engorged in the younger man? When the woman -or man- left they would take their payment and leave and Kisame would feel full. Now he felt half empty, if not that.

The bottle next to him was still capped shut, a strong liquor tossed out of the drinks cabinet with no interest in flavour or age.  
The largest bottle would do, something to confuse him more and shove him down the rabbit hole rather than letting him hang onto the sides. But the bottle remained sealed and full, Kisame had considered it but knew he didn't want it.  
He wasn't heart broken, that only happened to people who had actual relationships.  
He was just confused and empty, like the bottle next to him wasn't.  
Empty?  
The blue tinted man put his hand onto his chest, rubbing the blue skin with a small affection for his life support.

Was there anything in there? Anything? Could flesh and blood hold home to adoration, love and hate? It had never seemed possible for a heart to do such a large job as holding the mental stability of one human. Hoshigaki was no fool, he knew emotions were for those with their head halfway to heaven they were so absorbed in the clouds. Although, when he wondered about it, his heart had felt heavy when Itachi and him had been making love; like the blood pumped in was filled with pebbles and stones.  
The business man stopped, almost horrified.  
Making love?  
When had it changed from mindless sex, to making love?  
When had he started calling it love?  
There lay the hearted shaped puzzle piece, dormant and undisturbed with virgins intentions. It was a piece he'd never touched, until now.  
Kisame sighed, and opened the lid of the bottle with a twist and a clear click.  
He needed this now.

XXX

"Is Mr. Hoshigaki alright?"  
_I'm in bed with Itachi. He's got sleep stuck on his eyelid that he's trying to rub off his his palm while he's still half conscious. He yawned like a small kitten and falls back to my side and uses my hip as a pillow. His skull is cutting off the circulation in my left leg but I don't want to move him because I'm scared his head would break in my hands. _  
"Sharky, wake the fuck up!"  
_The only thing I can hear is the bubbling of water in the small pond outside, Itachi always sits next to it when he has nothing and everything to do. He usually has his hair out when he's at home.  
_"Taxi!"  
_He mutters something angrily in Japanese and turns over and pulls half of the sheet alongside with him. I smile and find his neck through his river of black hair and kiss his neck tenderly. He hums contently, and I can tell he's smiling.  
_Kisame's illusion that he was constructing was lost when a hard hand hit the back of his head. He stumbled down three steps and fell onto the pavement onto his knees and elbows, knowing he must look like a fool. His skin was protected by a suit he was wearing, unable to recalling even buying or dressing himself in the formal garments.  
The contrast between light and dark blinded him, he groaned and covered his scorching eyes with his sleeves.

Behind him stood a heavily stitched man who owned the violent hand, and Hidan whose hands were in the middle of an applaud as he laughed hysterically and tried not to wet his pants.  
As he tried to stand, two supports held under his shoulders and his was tossed again, fortunately this time he landed on hard but stable seats of a taxi.  
"Where am I?"  
Kakuzu checked the locks on his black briefcase as he answered. "We're on our way to meet with Akatsuki Co. Please don't ask questions, the urge to kill you is already fogging up my head"  
Kisame groaned, bending forward and trying not to hurl as the taxi began moving at a slow pace but a pace all the same. He was sandwiched in the middle of his colleges, an unintentional seating plan he knew he would regret.  
Hidan elbowed his right side and made Hoshigaki gasp "Damn Sharky, I've heard your prey scream but that sweet piece of ass was putty in your hands from what I heard!"  
Kakuzu's hand of one sided justice slapped the left side of his head "You had a prostitute on the eve of this meeting?"  
Hidan's elbow made contract again "You bet he did! A little Japanese boy that would make the angels cry, but only Kisame can say if he was a good fuck"  
A hand to his head again "Prostitutes give us a bad image, I told you this when we were in Rome"  
"Hel-fucking-lo? Have you seen us? I'm doing business with Jaws and motherfucking Frankenstein!"  
"That is the bonus of threat, we're the reason you're not a crack whore"  
"Well thanks, you're so fucking generous. I'll lick your shoes while I'm sucking your cock out of gratitude!"  
"You are immature"  
"Well you're gay!"

Between this argument, Kisame had become a battering ram between two parties. He was sure there was a hole where Hidan was drilling his elbow, and that his head was about to roll down onto the cab's dusty floor.  
Yes, life was great.  
He was a punching bag, but life was great.  
Itachi was great, hence life was great?  
Although Itachi was not in Kisame's arms, and would probably never be again. Was life still great? In his hangover, he couldn't figure out the answer. He also couldn't care if he was gay, or if he was going to Hell.  
Maybe life wasn't great, maybe life was Hell. Maybe, and only if Itachi was in his arms, would life be as far from Hell as he could go.

XXX

From unlucky smitten men to lucky bastards, this fact did not stop the hands of the clock from moving. When the clock was moving, things and someones were moving somewhere to collide or crash. When things crashed or collided, it would create another someone or something.  
And so on.  
Although what would be created when Itachi Uchiha and Kisame Hoshigaki collided with sweat covered skin and lust tinted eyes?  
Kisame unknowingly stepped closer to Itachi each day, all thanks to a certain someone who shall not be named for his modesty.  
Soon a number of individuals would collide, all driving round abouts around the two characters who have been focused on.  
Although there was a certain individual who knew to keep an eye on his little Itachi.  
He was a man to be very wary of, and went by the name of Madara Uchiha.

XXX

Madara Uchiha was a lucky man.  
He was wealthy due to his blood ties with the name Uchiha, the second largest business in Japan hence was considered quite the celebrity. He was also well built and rather handsome for his old ripening age, another miracle produced by his blood. He lived in a large mansion with seventeen bedrooms and a large estate, managed by gardeners who didn't question the older Uchiha when he spontaneously threw wads of money from the fourth story window. His maids were loosely wound and spent more time fulfilling his sexual libido than cleaning. The wine was aged, the beds were soft and his two sons were his pride and joy.  
Madara had been watching his eldest son walking down the pebble stone path towards the small cottage hidden between large greenery as the sun's crimson rays barely scarred the sky still as black as night.

He must've just returned from visiting his other brother, Madara pestered him not to see Sasuke at such late times but Itachi insisted he must.

Itachi was odd like that. He was his is adorable child of whom had fallen under his wing when an unspeakable accident occurred in a certain branch of the Uchiha tree.  
Itachi has been alienated after the incident and there appeared no future for the delicious prodigy until Madara scooped his limp body in his strong arms the way he did to his many mistresses. The media took this chance as displaying the softer side of Madara Uchiha, now a loving father.  
As Itachi walked, Madara watched him keenly, engorged in his feminine movements and his simple way of portraying the world. A blonde haired boy abruptly ran on long legs and embraced Itachi midwalk. This action of affection made Madara grin more, spinning the wine in his glass clockwise and back again as he pondered. His bubbling blonde held Itachi tighter has he tried to walk and resulted into leaning against his arm as his mouth moved at a fast pace.  
"You were always so talkative, Deidara" Madara said, addressing his second adopted son with adoration.

"Sir?"  
There was a soft knock on the oak door. Madara spun his chair to face his messenger  
"Ah, my beautiful red flower, what is it?"  
The maid blushed madly at her new title and desperately tried to regain her self dignity to actually deliver the message.  
"Um, Akatsuki Co. would like to consult salaries with you since they have been contracted into a new document with an organisation"  
He hummed, not in deep thought but trying to recall when he had even made deals with Akatsuki. It had been a small company until he had given them a loan, he could remember that. He also remembered a blue haired woman with fairly large breasts that showed beautiful cleavage.  
Yes, that's why he had given them the loan.  
"Alright my sweet, ask them to dine with us in two days. Book wine and dinner under my name, and also invite my assistant" Madara muttered carelessly, disappointed when he darling sons disappeared from view of the window.  
"Second assistant Orochimaru, sir?"  
"Yes"  
The maid muttered "Yes sir" before turning on her high heels and heading towards the beckoning door. She had heard amany stories of Madara's 'activities' with the household staff and had decided to remain the only virgin in the Uchiha household. The maid had been shellshocked to hear the story of the two sons, their current activities that Madara insisted they apply themselves fully to.  
Although that is another story.  
"But before that, my sweet..." Madara purred and she cringed. He placed his wine glass down before uncrossing his legs and placing his arousal on display for the maid as she nervously adjusted her tortoise shell glasses. Her eyes widened but she remained calm, placing a poster girl smile upon her face and slowly untying her apron.  
"Of course sir"

**Done.  
Oh my freaking God, that took ages.  
Read and Review, thank you. X **


	5. Scary men

**Chapter five, very freaking long so it had to be cut into two.**

**This is not just a filler chapter, a lot of what happens here is pretty important and just seems to create what kind of a world Madara and etc. are in.**

**Rated M for Hidan's bad use of language, heavily implied rape, minor YAOI scene (There will be a full length one soon, don't worry :) and other things that may offend. **

**Thank you for those who stick with this story. I know I am not the best updater since I take a long time to do things but your reviews make it worthwhile. I hope you stick with me until the end XXX**

The feeling of dread that was bestowed on the man's shoulders was heavier than any rock. He didn't know why these three people were so daunting for him, they seemed just as abnormal as anyone else in this man eat man world. Although his man's purple eyes that held home to several deep spirals was menacing, and to a still slightly intoxicated man named Mr Hoshigaki almost disturbing.

Hidan groaned as the trio stared at Akatsuki Co. -a three human troupe like themselves- made final decisions amongst themselves before entering the meeting room.

"God, why do we always get stuck with the weirdos?" He muttered.

"Inevitable, I suppose. Besides, that does not matter. Our gross income will increase by-" Kakuzu's head snapped back towards Kisame, whose whole weight was being leaned against a black wall "What on earth are you doing! Stop leaning over like a post and stand!"

The meeting room had two walls of glass and two of black plaster. In a vase on a lengthy -also black- table sat a vase of white flowers, looking as if they were hand crafted from Mother Nature herself. They basked in the day's sun and displayed their beauty in the sun that shone through the glass wall facing the cityscape.

_Like Itachi did. Had? Does? It was just a fanatical thing, so what is it? Maybe he __**does**__ bask in the sun, I don't know, so that makes it does? I wish I could see him bask in the sun, I wonder if he likes the sun or not, seeing as his skin is so white? Does he wear those sandals around his house as he pleases? Does he even live in a house, seeing as Tokyo is such an overpopulated city and he may live in a flat? Or he could just catch the train home from Tokyo-_

"Kisame!"

Hoshigaki straightened his crooked tie and tried to balance on two feet "Yeh?"

"Head, out the clouds, **now!**" 

"Ok, sorry"

Hidan ran his hands over the overly smooth table, then onto the surface of his suit. His purple tie was just the right colour and matched his eyes that sparkled in the sun like amethyst. He stared at the stitched man, hiding behind a strand of hair that fell over his eyes. When the man looked back with dark eyes, he grunted turned and faced the burning rays of the run to make his heavy blush disappear.

Finally the three associates walked towards the door, the deathly thin lead pulling open the glass door with what looked like all his strength.

"Smile" Kakuzu murmured, and stood next to his companions and smiles were plastered upon blank faces.

XXX

_It's winter. The sun had just gone down and I'm sitting on the wooden floor in our teahouse doing paperwork. The light is warm and yellow and even though the room is cold it looks warm. I don't hear Itachi walk down towards me; he was always as silent as a feline. I only sense him when I feel a body behind mine and his breath tickling my neck. He takes the cup from my hand and takes a sip then coughs upon the contents, complaining about how my American heritage brought me up to drink such bile. I take the coffee from his hands and drink some before placing my papers down and grasping his small hands between my own. _

_This is heaven._

The hard slap on the window against Kisame's head as the car ran over a pothole. He woke from his heaven and returned to limbo, placed in a limousine heading towards the estate of the owner of the Uchiha Company, Uchiha Madara with the six new high Achievers of Akatsuki Co. The meeting had gone well. While Kisame had passed unconscious onto the table, Kakuzu had moulded his targets to fit between his palms softly. Now there were five men in Akatsuki Co. and one rather attractive female. The deathly thin man with lank red hair was Nagato. The silent but heavily pierced man with hair like fire was called –ironically- Pein. Pein's beautiful spouse with pebble skin and sapphire blue hair was named Konan. They all sat on the seats to the right of the limousine and Kisame had analysed them as quiet, but rather friendly people.

It had been two weeks since said meeting. Kisame could not determine what days he was fully awake for or what exactly he had done in that time. He had been dependant on his sinful comrades to direct his feet one after the other.

Although since his comrades were Hidan and Kakuzu, this usually resulted with one foot tripping over the next sending him sprawling to the floor.

All he could recall was the flutter of a kimono and eyes shining deep red, the sensation of Itachi still renewed in his mind.

He loved the man.

Yes, _loved. _After the delirious days of complete lack of concentration he was ready to clutch the white flag.

He _loved _Itachi, at least he was pretty damn sure about it. Either it was love, or heavily like with large amounts of passion and desire. Kisame thought the second option sounded more judicious.

Hidan's painted fingernails drew swirls upon Kakuzu's thigh. The stitched man secretly let the fingers crawl closer to his smaller being before smacking them away and cursing the smaller male. Kisame watched the pair with curiousity, unable to determine what it was that they had stirring between them.

It was like teasing, prostitute kind of love that would not happen without a heavy hearted push.

"Kisame" Kakuzu began as Hidan took the chance to edge his palms closer "I don't know what the Hell is going on with you at the moment, and I don't really care. All I need you to know is-".

For one moment Kisame expected a phrase of some sort to uplift his spirits, but was proved dead wrong.

"- that you can't speak, you can't breathe, you can't move without me telling you to. I know everybody else will act partially alive but right as this moment even staying conscious for you takes all the yens in the world" he finished muttered while flicking the locks upon his briefcase lazily.

Hidan giggled but his attempted cute laughter came out as a snort.

The blue man faced the window and looked at the Japanese rural area.

Reality was far from unscrupulous; it skipped over the line of abysmal and headed over towards mental apocalypse as it chased after a dream in the shape of his obsession.

Itachi.

_Itachi._

_His hands were cold, although that never changed. He smiled a weasel's smirk and crawled into my lap, beginning to kiss me and grabbing my hands to be placed on his thighs. I let out a noise of surprise but soon adjusted to the change. I moved my hands to his hair. It was not really soft but quite firm, like horse hair. We kissed while I lay him down upon the floor, attacking his neck and earning a deep, delicious moan. He tasted of sugar, pure sugar from the cane. I grinded my hips into his own and he whined, a sound I always aimed to pull from him. His hands scratched at my clothes as I began undoing the cords of his kimono to find his hardened nipple._

_"Kisame-Sama" He stammered, "Please..." _

"Kisame-san"

He was once again pulled from his arousing fantasy. The woman named Konan smiled at him softly. Her hands were in her lap and her cleavage was intentionally made by the blue cocktail dress she wore.

"Are you feeling ok? You seem very down" She questioned, moving closer to Kisame and placing a hand on his thigh.

Kisame shrugged while muttering and excuse about weather, food poisoning or something else that he had thought of when he had knowledge to spare.

She pouted softly and he almost smiled as her adorable face but remembered her protective husband was glaring daggers at him.

"It's not that, Kisame-san. Tell me, please; you can trust me" Konan said, blunt laced with care creating a strange combination that allured Mr. Hoshigaki into a fake sense of closure to finally spill over.

"I really miss someone and I think I'm going crazy" Kisame said, looking down as his face began to held back a feminine squeal and resorted to smiling boldly. She knew love, it was something very special that could be as strong as lightning and as small as the bodily lantern of a firefly; as it could weaken but never fade. Even though the lonesome man had only muttered a sentence, she could somehow recognize the blush and avoided eye contact as something she did long ago when her husband had simply been eye candy to her. The shark man's large anatomy hunched down upon itself was the power of love, as sweet as Heaven yet as burning as Hell.

"Why don't you go and see them? I'm sure they'd be delighted" She proposed.

_If only she knew the truth, I'm sure she'd retreat faster than Itachi did._

"Yeh, I'll do that. Thank you, Konan"

She placed her small hand upon his coloured blue. He focused his eyes upon a silver ring on her finger. It was covered in small flowers and vines that spiralled around the top of her knuckle to the bottom of her fingernail. Her other soft hand turned his face to see her glistening smile before she slinked back next to her lover.

Somehow, this made everything a little bit worse.

Her smile had been filled with the same closure her words had been, she would not tell a soul yet she could not banish Kisame of this wicked curse that plagued him.

XXX

They arrived, finally.

The driveway was as long as a serpent's tail and the trees made an arch over the black tar that had the appearance of an arching dark cat shredding its fur. The mansion of Uchiha Madara loomed black and jaggered over the estate on a small hill, but still created spine paralysing shivers down childrens backs on Halloween.

Madara Uchiha, was to say the least, a very different individual.

It was not really visual appearance that seemed to do the trick. He was a broad chested man with thin legs made to appear even thinner in a pin striped suit. His hair was long, black and lustrous, cascading down his back in large straight clumps. Dark slanted eyes with a dark line under each that -like Itachi- made it difficult to determine his age. Like Itachi, he was also extremely handsome.

Kisame swore Madara Uchiha looked strangely familiar to someone.

His personality was peppy but solemn, friendly but cold.

Innocent but also very, very guilty.

"My dear friends!" He called as he walked down the steps with open arms, walking first to place a hand on Pein's shoulder then shaking Nagato's hand.

"You must be Mr. Hoshigaki. Why, how unusual you appear, my friend!" He explained, slapping Kisame's cheek in a playful manner but with a hearty strength.

"Ow"

Konan giggled behind her hand and let her spare be adorned in kisses by the charming man. He looked up to her with deep eyes.

"Madara Uchiha, the pleasure is _all mine_" He purred. Pein's eyes burned with rage and snaked his hand around his lover's waist before Madara could. He simply chuckled and walked ahead.

Kakuzu galloped by Madara's side and Hidan pouted and shoved his hands deep in his pockets and walked behind.

The group walked towards the jaws of the monster, the entrance of the house.

By the main entrance stood two butlers and a troupe of maids giggling behind their hands at the new guests. Madara playfully shooed them away as the butler retrieved their coats. This main room was large, candle lit and dreadfully eerie. All corners that were not in light appeared to swallow the room and a single step upon the wooden floor made the whole foundation screech.

Like Madara, his house was also very individually different.

"Oh, I do hope you do not mind, I have invited a few more people to join us?" Madara said as the butler pulled his coat off even though he'd been outside for no more than a single moment.

"No problem at all!" Kakuzu chirped to Hidan's annoyance and under his breath ever so softly he muttered something about the stitched man getting on his knees to suck his-

The whisper however, was loud enough for Kakuzu to hear as he earned a hard slap to the head.

The sound of loud laughter could be heard and the clock chimed seven o'clock.

The doors were opened and a sensation of colour and sound filled the empty hall and chased away the shadow banshees.

It was far from a business get together and much along the lines of a large masquerade celebration. Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling with their yellow lights shining down upon the party beneath them. A mixture of masquerade and formal wear, the woman wearing little to nothing yet appeared angelic rather that tartish. Large tables held banquets and dancing gymnasts that spun fire between their fingers. Here stood six members who believed this was merely a meeting to discuss finance.

"Please" Madara chuckled at their wide eyed surprise as one man threw himself from one trapeze to another "You are humble guests. This is your home as much as it is mine. If you see my sons around, please do not hesitate as they were raised to be very _friendly_". His slanted red eyes found a beauty amongst the crowd, standing alone as she held a glass of wine in both hands.

"Excuse me" He said, and gracefully weaved towards his prey and leaving his 'guests' alone in the enclosed circus.

Kakuzu's face was stretched into such a wide grin one could call it a Glasgow smile. He hissed "If I had known this was a party, then I would've brought wine" through his still fixed beam. The orchestra was positioned next to a pathway to the garden on which he could see a woman with her dress thrown over her head as a man was between her legs.

Kisame wondered how any such person could make themselves at home in such an uneasy environment. Although he would find an unoccupied chair and fall head over heels into his fantasies about Itachi again until Kakuzu called him for the **actual **meeting to begin, whenever that would be.

As he walked the circus tricks he came across were fasinating, catching his attention as if he was a child. A young man breathing fire had long black hair and Kisame pulled himself away from the human dragon convincing himself it was not who he thought.

He began to walk through the crowd when a firm hand attached itself to his bicep.

"Mr Hoshigaki, un?" A blonde haired woman asked. Her body was encased in a crème coloured tunic that fell over one leg and left the other exposed. Hair cascaded down her back in a large ponytail fixed by a gold band and the smile on her face seemed brighter due to champagne.

The mistress held her hand forward and Kisame claimed it.

"I'm Deidara, youngest son of Madara Uchiha. Pleasure's mine, un"

Kisame let out a small 'oh' in surprise at his sex, but remained mellow. Before he could utter a word to the bubbling man, he bounced through the crowd in his intoxicated self, laughing and calling out to whoever he pleased.

Weird.

XXX

She was backed against the wall, looking both ways to find an escape but could not free herself from the powerful arms encaging her.

"You know" He growled, running a hand over her naked thigh "You were the only reason I signed that contract, long, long ago". His sinful hands crawled higher like locusts upon sugar cane, her hands holding her satin dress firmly down. He chuckled deeply at her useless attempts and grinned at her like a Cheshire cat with his white teeth almost glowing.

"Don't you think…" another hand found her blue hair, tangling itself into the curled locks "That I should benefit from all these years, of keeping your company afloat?"

"Leave me alone" Konan said firmly, hoping her strength would cover her fear. Madara had been flirtatious and lured her to the garden without the supervision of her protective spouse, and then the housecat had turned into a tiger. He buried his head into her hair and embraced the smell of flowers that tickled his nose. Konan thought fast. She buried her knee into his crotch while both his hands were slack, pushing him away and beginning to sprint towards the alluring light of the party. He was almost too elegant as he pushed her into a bush of roses that he knew was untrimmed with strength that was almost unhuman. The thorns bit at her tender skin and drew speckles of blood and she cried out in pain. The tears pricking at her eyes were lapped away by an eager tongue as she now lay limp in the embrace of the devil called Madara Uchiha. His left hand now teased her cleavage and his right already up her dress and seeking their payment.

"I do wonder if you will taste as beautiful as you look, my darling rosebud" He whispered for only her to hear.

XXX

The seat Kisame found was secluded, hidden by a curtain and probably made for other more productive activities than sleeping. His muscular body was thrown over both arms of the loveseat in an awkward position as a silent snore escaped his navy lips. When he awoke the party had simply fired up, another log being thrown to keep the umbers burning. Stumbling on sleeping legs, he searched for a clock yet only found more beautiful people he could not recognize under plaster masks.

"Mr Hoshigaki?"

The blue man jumped in fright as the voice breathing into his ear. Madara, once again, laughed in Kisame's ear and fingered the blue lace panties that sat in his pocket.

"No need to fear, my friend!" A hard hand slapped Kisame's shoulder and almost dislocated it.

"Ow"

"Will you join me upon the balcony?" The flirtatious man queried.

"Of course" He muttered, following Madara as he walked towards a balcony that was swallowed partially by the night. The air was cool upon his cobalt skin, yet the winter chill struck his bones. After five minutes of standing silently upon the almost empty balcony and several visits from waiters with wine, Kisame was discreetly shivering from head to toe. Madara had pulled off his jacket with ease and displayed a red blouse, flapping it softly as if it were summer.

"The night is a mysterious creature, is it not, Mr Hoshigaki?" The elder man said, staring out towards the stars that could hardly be seen under clouds. He held two large glasses of red wine in his hands and gave one to his guest. The guest complied but detested the iron taste of the mixture.

"Now then, did you meet my sons?"

"I met one of them, yes"

The man hummed in approval and did not turn his line of sight.

"And which one was it?" Madara enquired.

Kisame couldn't help but think his question referred to his sons as pieces of meat rather than children. He struggled to remember the name, something beginning with D.

"He had blonde hair, tyed up in a ponytail, tunic-"

"Ah, Deidara!" The father beamed, thinking back to the blonde haired boy with fond feelings "Yes, he was excited to meet you all today. He's a very darling child, only eighteen. Long blonde hair, big blue eyes, a hit with the ladies"

"Yes, I can see why"

"But also with the men" he winked "I could introduce you to him again, if you like. He's a very _excitable _person to be around"

"Urgh... maybe later tonight" Kisame desperately tried to wriggle from his awkward spot and only just suceeded as Madara took a large gulp of wine.

Hoshigaki felt rather odd, and wished not to consider his theory.

Had Madara Uchiha just tried to sell him his son?

The handsome man clenched the lingerie in his pocket, wishing he could grind his teeth in anger. She had slapped him aftwards, backhanded him so her ring scratched across his cheekbone and left a gaping scratch. Although it had been worth it, so very much.

She tasted so much like new books and fresh flowers, so sweet on his wrinkled tongue. If she kept her pretty lips closed he assured her Akatsuki Co. would become a world known business. It had been a fair trade.

"Father, Orochimaru is looking for-"

The heir of Uchiha Cooperation stopped dead in his tracks as he faced Kisame Hoshigaki standing on the same balcony as his foster father Madara Uchiha. His body went stiff as a pole and eyes widened, not moving from the man with skin tainted blue.

Madara smiled brightly at the appearance of his son, grabbing the beauty's side and guiding him toward's Kisame.

He had not been interested in Deidara, but he could not resist this.

"Mr Hoshigaki, I would like to introduce you to the heir of Uchiha, and my darling son. Itachi Uchiha"

**Cliffhanger.**

**OHWHATTHEFUCKISGOINGTOHAPPEN!**

**Review and tell me what you think please. **

**Thanks for reading, remember if anything confuses you all you have to do is ask, I won't bite. :)**

**XXX**


	6. Cruel men

**Chapter six, one before seven****.**

**I hate this chapter, it drove me potty. **

**Thank you so much for everyone who had suggestions and guesses on what would happen next. I go out of my way to achieve these for you. :)**

**This is eleven freaking pages. Don't even ask me why. **

**Rated M, again. YAOI, abuse and language. **

**Thank you for reading. XXX**

**P.S Concerning the name of the room 'Transmit room'. It's an office. I couldn't think of anything else to call it, but it had to be something unique because Madara has ten offices at least. I just realized that's a room in Amnesia. :D**

If things could stop, they just did. Suddenly, with no excuse everything seemed to screech to a halt. Two men facing each other, it was no big deal yet time halted because of it.

Then again, in Kisame's life nothing had ever been a big deal. A scratch would heal and you had to live with a scar, but this was different.

This was Itachi.

Itachi _Uchiha, _the heir of something or other.

How could Kisame have despised that name before he knew Itachi was attached to it?

There he was, looking ridiculously cute dressed as an Asian geisha. Was he in heaven now, was this heaven? It felt no different than Limbo had.

Now what?

Heaven, Hell, wherever Itachi was going sounded fine really.

He longed to reach forward, touch his porcelain skin and rough hair and either wake from his fantasy or fall deeper into it. The beauty's lips were coated in red while his eyes remained deep black. The Geisha appeared as fragile as a bird's broken wing yet Kisame begged to differ.

Itachi looked calm and his heart could've been faster than it already was but inside, but the pillars holding his mask were beginning to crumble under such tremendous weight. The man in front of him looked like a photograph, a picture telling him a thousand words of emotion he could not return.

Had his skin always looked so smooth under the natural moonlight? Was this longing that he felt when he wished to touch blue skin under white fingers?

Madara looked between both men, confused. He raised one eyebrow in suspicious question. Mr Hoshigaki appeared what was that word? Blown of his feet? Starstruck? Head over heels in love?

He grinned, his intentions hidden from view.

"Do you two… know each other?" Madara wondered aloud, and Kisame thought he heard poison laced in his words.

At this precise time Kakuzu walked upon the balcony with Hidan latched tightly on his arm. The younger spoke garbage into the other's ear about certain acts he would desire to perform in private places while the alcoholic high encircled him.

"Ah, Mr Kakuzu! Mr Hidan! How lovely to see you both, and both so happy indeed! This-" He moved Itachi's stone solid body to face away from Kisame "-Is my eldest son, Itachi. I am sure Deidara has already introduced himself"

Itachi held his hand towards Hidan, the purple eyed man taking one look at the painted face and outstretched hand before taking in a breath and asking 'Hey, you look real familiar. Have we met?'.

"I do not believe so Mr Hidan" Itachi quickly replied, shaking the man's hand with surprising strength "May I say how formal you look tonight" a hand traced around wide eyes "Are they your natural eye colour Mr Hidan?".

"Oh, **these**!" Hidan laughed, stroking the little Uchiha's hand that traced his eyelids delicately "Yes, they are"

"Your eyes are stunning, if I am permitted to say. Most beautiful"

Hidan blushed, and Kakuzu wished to break the neck of Madara's eldest son to kill his anger. Kisame could've tackled his teammate to the ground and gorged his purple eyes out with his own fingers if he chosen to but decided against it. Yes, his blue skin was almost green with envy but Itachi had distracted both Hidan and Madara away from the truth between Hoshigaki and the Uchiha heir.

Itachi was relieved. The man had been too distracted to even keep his line of thought on remembering whom this stranger was.

Although out of the corner of his black eye, he saw a trembling fist and knew Hoshigaki had seen it all. Was that guilt? _Again_? This time it was feasting upon the flesh of his heart. This was ridiculous, yet expected.

Madara Uchiha could not hold his straight face, he smiled a bloodthirsty grin and brought his hands together as if to end the moment.

"Splendid, we are all together now! Shall we get drinks and gather in the billiard room?"

"Yes! That sounds splendid. I shall fetch our other coordi-"

"No!" Madara stated abruptly, scrunching the panties in his pocket once more "I'm sure they will find us before we begin. Besides, they must be having a _splendid _time to not notice the time flying"

XXX

She lay in a patch of thorns, mascara still clinging to her cheeks. Konan was not crying anymore, simply felt too paralysed and numb to move from the place Madara left her.

She wanted Pein to protect her, but he wasn't here to do so. Where was he, did he worry where she was?

Her dress was not torn, but there were small stretches and tears that looked messy. Her hair was torn from its up do and her little flower was flattened under her back.

She looked like a Barbie doll as a thrift shop, heavily loved.

The cold air rushed through her oddly twisted legs and made her shiver as the gale caressed her abused lower half.

The bastard had taken her underwear.

XXX

The group of business men walked through the crowd, the clock striking eleven. How long had they been here? The shark man's eyes should've been drooping but they remained glued upon the Itachi's delicate figure.

Itachi.

Right there, walking on wooden shoes with such skilled delicacy. With mild swings of his hips the kimono's tail trailed behind each step, the red and pink material wrapped around him with delicate silks covering him from vulgar eyes. He could have been a mechanical machine and Kisame would have believed the word fully.

He was beyond perfect, with the exquisiteness of sugary delight.

Suddenly Madara appeared by Itachi's side, almost too close Kisame noticed.

"Where were you?" Madara muttered softly into Itachi's ear, grasping several locks of his son's hair between his fingers.

How he would love to tangle his child's hair.

"I was visiting Sasuke, Father"

Itachi winced when his hair was tugged, nobody noticing the act of abuse. Madara wore a grin face, pulling harder until Itachi's eyes began watering.

"I told you not to visit so late at night. You know what the area around there is like. You could be attacked"

His torturous fingertips flicked his tassels away and slipped down his body slowly, resting upon the curve of his behind.

To anyone witnessing the act, it would appear a sign of affection from his father.

Hoshigaki thought otherwise.

"Do not disobey me again, Itachi"

"Yes, Father" He hated calling Madara by his fatherly title. It was like calling a slaughterhouse a family home.

"By the way, I want you to _tend_ to one of our guests"

The group stopped shortly as a blonde haired boy juggling blue spheres walked in their path with a silly grin plastered on his face. Madara shut his mouth, but then repeated his request when they began moving. The bad feeling in the pit of Itachi's stomach grew as he asked 'Who will I be serving?' with deja vu suddenly playing the scene for him.

"You will serve a man named Mr Kisame Hoshigaki'

There it was. A splinter as large as a stake gutting his mangled body and spreading his intestines from the ceiling while this disgusting creature made Itachi watch his own blood drip like red paint. _That_ feeling Kisame had ressurected was squealing with open armed excitement. It longed to be let out from its shackles and feast, run and breed. Itachi had held its leash for so long yet now it seemed it had gained the strength of Neptune.

"You will be meeting in the transmit room. Please place my papers somewhere safe before you have sex upon my desk, it would be Hell to rearrange those forms" Madara chuckled, walking ahead and geaturing the passing hallway to Itachi.

He nodded and took the first pathway then a right and two lefts.

He hated committing coitus on hard surfaces, but fighting with his father would be fighting a devil with fire.

Pointless.

The halls were filled with drunken nobodies, crouched in the corners either laughing or crying. Itachi hated his senior's parties. He would always be forced -along with his non related brother, Deidara- to wear outfits that rid him to shame. Deidara would pout but adjust to the costume fairly quickly.

Itachi had pride which made the humiliation difficult.

The worst part however was that their 'father' would try to sell them to anybody who seemed even remotely interested in sex with pathetic sleuth. If nobody took up the offer of the two boys, Madara would simply ask them to pleasure himself instead free of charge.

Disgusting.

In the hallway he passed he saw a picture of a child half shadowed yet half illuminated. It was of a nameless boy, somebody Itachi assumed was a distant cousin. A young, Japanese boy around the age of seven

_"Nii-san!" Sasuke shrieked in giddy terror as his older brother pushed the swing to its highest. Little legs swung without gravity before being held back with the weight of gravity. As soon as the swing came back into Itachi's reach, he snatched his brother off the seat and cuddled him in a bear hug. Sasuke hummed quietly and clung to his brother, embracing his individual scent that smelt of sugar and simple freshness. Itachi placed him down to the ground, the small boy only as tall as his stomach. Sasuke pouted quaintly but grinned when he was offered his brother's hand/_

_"Come now" Itachi grinned "Mother is waiting for us"_

It had been so long ago, back when Sasuke was alive. Itachi had not initiated a grin like that for so many years. Why had he thought of that? He stared at the portrait again and saw no resemblance to his beautiful, baby brother.

Constant baby brother.

Eternally young, baby brother.

_His body floated on the surface, his father cradling his youngest son sobbing with no shame. His mother stared at him with eyes like a banshee and leaped over to Itachi, shaking him like a rag doll._

_Itachi remained silent, still._

_"Why did you kill Sasuke, my darling baby! You monster!" She screeched. _

He looked like Edvard Munch's _Scream_, eyes wide open in uncontrolled terror with his mouth fixated into an O covered by his trembling hand. Itachi fell against the wall, sinking to the floor with no hesitation. The screams of his mother still echoed in his ears, louder than bells. Until that day he hadn't known what a true monster was until his own mother had addressed him as one.

It was his fault Sasuke was dead, he should've been watching his every move. He should've heard the splashes the Sasuke made when he fell into the water.

Itachi knew should've been there to save him when Sasuke drowned.

He was a real monster.

Two or more tears came, as they always did; silent in the hall that still echoed of past cries. Finally standing on two shaking feet, Itachi kept walking, although Sasuke's memory still remained by his side.

It was times like this he enjoyed being a whore, he could simply fuck his troubles away. He would bite and hiss and moan in a way that wasn't his own, but it was the only way.

XXX

Nobody seemed to notice the sudden disappearance of Itachi Uchiha. That is, except for Kisame Hoshigaki that watched his every movement with uncontrollable curiousity.

Kisame blinked, then blinked again. Itachi disappeared into thin air? Was it a magic trick? He peered over heads but could not see his desired anywhere.

What had happened?

"And so I took the reward money and left!" Kakuzu finished and Madara roared with laughter at a story concerning illegal heart transplants that Kisame had heard ten times prior.

The billiard room sat just up ahead and all four men stumbled down the hall, leaning upon each other as they journeyed down the hall.

"Mr Hoshigaki" Madara laughed with a hint of nerves as he wiped tears if laughter from his eyes "I hate to ask this of you, but I have left my folder full of all your previous work in my working office. I would usually ask a maid to fetch this for me but as you can see" he gestured to the empty room "-they are also enjoying themselves. An old man like me would never make the distance there and back. You wouldn't mind retrieving it for me, would you?"

"Of course he would not!" Kakuzu boomed.

Kisame inwardly sighed yet politely took up the offer and headed down the way Madara had directed him in.

The old man rubbed his hands and let his plan fall into place.

XXX

In a drunken buzz, the finder began mumbling and cursing the sender for sending him on a goose chase when all he really wanted was to find Itachi. What then, when he found him? Kisame had no clue, yet simply hoped for the best.

Finally he found the right room after wandering for ten minutes. _Transmit Office_, carved into the oak door with talented hands. A room filled from floor to ceiling of papers outdating even Madara himself. The room was filled from the ceiling to floor with piles of paper, an arctic snow scene that at first Kisame walked into with wide eyed awe.

Where did he start?

Kisame picked up the closest piece of paper to him.

It was blank.

He picked up the next one.

That was blank too.

Then the third one he picked up wasn't blank, but was not business related.

It was porn.

Someone hummed from the darkness, a child's tune. Kisame turned yet could see nothing, but swore that what he had heard had heard someone and something from the past. The corners were bathed in darkness and could hold him to any variety of mystical banshees. The nervous shark backed into the bookcase behind him and sheets of paper rained down from higher shelves and littered the already covered floor. After panicking momentarily he grumbled at his stupidity.

In the corner, someone hummed in disapproval.

"For God's sake..." Kisame muttered and crouched down and grasped random papers..

In the shadows, the boy who had unlocked the door seven minutes before was waiting. The cold was harsh upon his skin yet he did not dwell on it. Itachi walked forward, the garments created by the darkness loosening to display his naked body.

Like a master of shadows, Itachi slinked behind the burly man as a mere trick of the light. The oblivious male was still trying to find all the missing sheets, stupidly blind he was.

He leaned over him so his skin was merely inches from that tinted blue under clothes, his presence still unknown.

"Hello again, Kisame Hoshigaki" He whispered.

The sudden appearance caused Kisame to snap upright and head-butt into the shelves. He could see stars but the face of Itachi Uchiha was recognizable even in blur. Standing on two wobbling feet, he stumbled forward and placed a hand on the smooth shoulder.

It was real, smooth as flour.

Shit.

"You're real" Hoshigaki muttered, almost unable to believe his own words. Itachi -once again- was bare, beautiful skin personally on display for only him and the moon to see. The Uchiha raised his eyebrow in question and placed one foot forward. His red lips were pulled into a small frown. Walking forward he embraced the smaller man and for a moment everything had changed.

Kisame did not notice Itachi leaning into his arms, the small show of affection that slipped through

"Of course, Kisame Hoshigaki. Once again, I am free of charge. I am yours to use for whatever way you see fit" Itachi said impatiently. He was already hard, his erection catching the eye of his partner. He rubbed his member against Kisame's clothed thigh and let out a breathy sigh of pleasure.

"Itachi..." Kisame stammered. He had saved so much that he wished to flush out of his system in poems and sonnets for his loved one although blocking his speech was the fact that Itachi Uchiha stood, waiting for his word and grinding against his leg like a dog in heat. Was he really there or was this a very realistic dream? Their last sexual encounter had been so long ago, had he really kept his libido silent for such a time?

Noticing the bite mark upon his shoulder, Kisame cringed.

Had he really done that?

He placed delicate kisses on the bruise, once again apologizing; trying to paint over the mark in their history. Itachi arched into the steady licks upon his shoulder.

"Take me where you wish to" He panted, fingers already stretching himself to save time. Kisame looked around the small space.

Desk, floor and wall; he was far from selective.

"Wherever" He growled and closed his eyes as their lips connected and electricity pounded through his ears. The kiss was almost innocent as the pace slowed and their lips never opened and simply massaged against each other. The shark man seized the other's firm hair and the boy caressed the smooth blue skin. Itachi had closed his eyes long ago, lost in a mirror maze of his own emotions that he tried to escape.

It was too hard, he could not escape the pleasure he wanted, no _needed _to feel. He _needed _to escape his guilt.

"Open your mouth" The dominant one said in a husky voice. The submissive man complied and his parted lips gave way to an eager tongue that seeked out his. Itachi cringed at the grinding that their teeth made, the blunt nails clawing at his scalp. The nerves ran down to his nether reigns and soon Itachi's innocence was lost when he was slammed against the wall and held there by two large hands. It was the first time Itachi noticed the silver ring upon his partner's ring finger. He engulfed the digit so the ring caught upon his teeth.

The sight was erotic to Kisame Hoshigaki, his desire increased and ground himself into the Uchiha. Itachi panted, eyes misted and hair tousled. His lips were rosy pink with a faint tinge of red.

"Aah..."

"I'm in love with you" Kisame said in the heat of the moment, leaving his confession as their lips connected desperately. It was nowhere near romantic but it didn't need to be, it was only a confession from a man with a raging erection in a tie. Simply some words moulded to shape a sentence were nothing but toys for ears. Kisame couldn't recall his arms feeling so heavy, almost pulling his entire body to the floor. He felt his eyes skim out of focus yet forced himself to remain standing. Itachi also ignored the claim. He pushed his client to the floor, falling upon the bed of white. The confession was blown from Kisame's winded chest, yet hung in the air like fog.

"There is a difference between love and lust, Kisame" Itachi panted.

To prove his point, he pounced and grinded his naked groin sinfully against his client. He snatched the striped tie and kissed Kisame once more, although the shark man pulled back in surprise when he felt a familiar liquid on his tongue.

"You bit me" The shark man smirked and Itachi sneered and continued to remove the meddlesome tuxedo. Layer after layer the impatient adolescent seemed to looked for his present yet only receive more confusing garments with multifarious button structure. After the third layer, the Uchiha let his teeth rip through the undershirt and intentionally break open the blue skin in spouts of red.

Kisame gasped, his head falling back into the sea of papers. This time the blood was there, dripping down the toned blue stomach and creating crimson blossoms upon snow white. It stung like a different kind of fire, rather than heavenly he was falling into Hell with a deep pain that would not leave his train of thought.

This was not Itachi. The swan was gone and all that remained was a squawking goose that ruffled its feathers too much. Was he trying to prove a point?

"Why are you acting so crazy?" Kisame said, and the words seemed to undo the spell circling around the boy. He ran smooth fingers over skin he has missed. Placing his cheek upon his muscular chest he found he could hear his heartbeat.

_Thump, thump... thump, thump._

So peaceful, like a mountain stream or the heavy traffic to a city bound infant. His skin was so soft on his face, how could he have forgotten such delicate texture? He almost shut the door upon the memory.

"I'm trying to forget someone" Itachi muttered, looking downwards. The gentle hands on the back of his head forced him to look eye to eye with irises of light blue.

"Who?"

_"Nii-san, I drew you this picture!"_

_The picture was uninterpretable, yet Itachi could see everything that was intended to be._

_"It's of us!" Sasuke squealed, pushing a chair to the counter to try and obtain a jar of sweets intentionally of reach. His older brother laughed and shook the chair playfully under his brother's feet._

_"Watch our Sasuke, you're going to fall!" He teased._

_"Stop it Itachi!"_ _Sasuke shouted, said brother immediately ceasing. Reaching on the ends of his toes he retrieved a single sweet tasting treat from the jar and handing it to his brother._

"No-one of your concern" He muttered as his eyes began to water. No, not now!He screamed in his mind.

Kisame looked up to the God, and wondered if he was finally veiling his mask, the hand rubbed the back of his neck "Are you ok?"

His answer was threatening, two blood red irises spinning madly and turning Itachi Uchiha into something frightening.

Itachi could not be bothered with the trousers, they would prove even more tiresome that the top half. He unzipped the fly and sucked the upright erection through black boxers. The taste was one he remembered and indulged him the he pulled the boxers down and forced the member down his throat.

"Fuck" Mr Hoshigaki panted, bucking his hips upward slightly. The Uchiha took him gratefully, feeling his pulsing vein on his tongue.

"Oh God! Itachi you're so..." Kisame could find no word to feel the teeth biting upon his tender skin, the end of his throat claiming his head, the nudging tongue touching his blue vein. As he felt his orgasm near, the mouth retreated and the boy wiped his lips on his wrist in discourteous.

"I want you to come inside me" Was Itachi's excuse that worked like a charm and stood Kisame's erection up higher. He thought that they were missing something that they needed, like a clock working perfect yet also missing a gear. The nameless feeling was either not there or being hidden behind a veil of desperation and despair.

Without warming he plunged himself upon Kisame, biting his lip yet not tasting the sensation of blood. With his eyes scrunched shut from the discomfort he began riding his client with thighs that had strengthened over the years.

Years.

Time.

_The mobile hanging above them had been outgrown so many years ago. Now Sasuke lay beneath the sheets, his brother the only comfort he needed. Wiping the tears from Sasuke's eyes, Itachi wore heartbreak on his face._

_"Otouto, what happened?"_

_His brother tried to speak but his body was still wracked with sobs from the night terror._

_"It was a monster" He cried "A scary monster that killed Mother and Father, it chased me upstairs and I tried to hide but... and it killed you!"_

_The stories that children unknowingly came up with haunted Itachi._

_His brother once again resorted to tears, grasping his brother as if a clawed banshee were to tear them apart. He hugged his brother, breathing his scent and promising to never let him go. Sasuke reached off the bed to the beside and grasped a book, handing it to his brother._

_"Could you read to me? Just for a little bit, please?" He pleaded, eyes wide and begging his brother to say. Opening the cover of the novel, Itachi Uchiha placed a gentle kiss upon his forehead._

_"Of course I will. We have all the time in the world, Sasuke"_

It was nothing big, nothing large at all. It was smaller than a clenched hand yet meant so much more to Kisame Hoshigaki than anything in the world. It was smaller than a crystal jewel and even smaller than a penny.

It was a tear, quaint and single, sitting upon Kisame's build chest as a small clear dome. It could've been a drop of sweat but he knew otherwise. He looked up, and saw the watery track down Itachi's face from where it had dropped; silently from his right eye. His expression was now detached and empty as if he were dead. They had stopped rocking, once again frozen in time by a single action.

The smaller of the two hoisted himself high and pulled the other man out of him, still straddling his waist as he let a simple saying slip from his trembling lips.

"Forgive me"

It was an apology filled with such damaged feelings that had almost faded to nothing. A silent boy with his chest slowly rising as tendrils of black hair streamed over his eyes and down his backbone, the shell for a deceased creature, the husk of a seed that had already rotted.

Kisame leaned up and embraced him, holding his nimble frame. It shook like the last leaf on a tree; alone and hopeless to its unknown fate. He smelt his hair and stroked his skin, knowing this was as close as he would come to unmasking him. Although he didn't mind, at this present moment the thought had flown from him like a bird with the approach of winter. He just wanted his blue pearl skin to warm the Uchiha. He pulled off his tuxedo jacket and placed it around his shivering white shoulders.

"Forgive me" The black haired boy said again, looking down towards his client's once hard erection, now soft. Yet with the decrease of the libido came not anger, but concern for the Uchiha that he loved.

Hoshigaki showed his love for the emotionless Geisha not through words covered in syrup, but through timed stokes of his black hair and the fingertips that danced like warm umbers upon skin colder than a glacier's cheek. For a moment, Kisame closed his eyes and imagined life would always be like this and for a moment or two while his protective hand held Itachi's thigh he fooled himself. Although now ne looked upon the portrait, he not only saw the beauty but the blemishes beneath.

A dark bruise upon his neck.

Had Kisame really placed that there? It had been so long ago to him.

Itachi retracted slightly but the older man simply moved closer. The love the Uchiha kept was forced together by simple sewing, stuffing falling from some gaping holes and was held at lock and key, hidden beneath a million ocean waves.

Lucky Kisame could swim.

He chuckled softly at his absurd observations, daring to place a gentle kiss upon Itachi's hair.

His hair was never soft. More like animal hair.

Was that what caused Itachi to jump from Kisame as if he was a live wire? The fear riddling his frame was unnatural for someone so graceful, so perfect and so emotionless.

Itachi knew he was breaking, finally. After holding up the ceiling the rocks above would cave in and finally kill him. Kisame would bring down the final blow upon Itachi's shoulders and knock him lifeless before finally dying. Snatching his bundle of clothes he pulled his kimono on, still with grace but overruled with desperation.

"Will you stay this time?" He asked when he was lying on the ground with his clothes torn.

It had been stupid, Kisame had realized. it was an invitation for sappy puppy love.

Neither did sappy.

"Please" he begged, "Please don't leave again". There were no shackles upon his feet, he could've reached out if he desired so. If Itachi didn't want him, then locking the beauty in a cage of gold would change nothing. All he could do was watch the last shards of Itachi glitter before he finally disappeared.

Once again Hoshigaki's heart was heavy, as if the blood seeped through the tissue and dampened his ambition. Once it had been simply an organ, until Itachi Uchiha had given it meaning.

Had he wanted to die this much when his mother died? When his father beat her? When his father left? Was this acceptance of death simply love at its worst?

Itachi tried not to look back, forcing his eyes not to wonder in case they lay upon _him. He _was begging upon his knees for him to stay, simply until the morning. Simply until another tomorrow when there could be things to live for. Here, in this darkness, there was nothing to live for. Hills of paper and skies of black, no colours or sounds. An ideal Hell.

"Itachi..." It was his last attempt, jumping over the ravine to grasp the tail feathers of the crow or simply blunder and fall?

Turning his back was the hardest act Itachi had committed to. He had begun crying when Hoshigaki had asked him to stay because it was an impossible request.

In his heart, he knew he wanted to remain here.

"Goodbye, Kisame" Itachi choked, and closed the door.

Kisame fell, and kept falling through darkness.

Itachi walked out the door, and kept walking through the dark he had lived in for a very long time.

Everything was over.

Or so it was thought.

As the geisha began drying his eyes with end of his sleeve, two yellow eyes watched him from the shadows and waited for him to step into his trap before striking with his fangs exposed. The snake lunged forward and twisted around the weasel. Itachi's nimble frame was slammed against the stone wall, a hand holding his neck that suspended him in the air.

He winced while gasping for breath, already knowing from the liquor tainted breath caressing his neck who had decided to take advantage of him.

"Orochimaru" He gasped, trying to remain as still as possible and his windpipe was twisted beneath his fingers.

Orochimaru looked as his prey with satisfaction. Itachi gulped to dampen his throat, resisting the urge to clench his hands. Orochimaru's hair was wild, greasy from endless, sleepless hours and dark purple lines of fatigue making home under his eyes.

He was Madara's second advisor, a rather slippery man of whom he had employed long before adopting Itachi. His yellow eyes had sent deathly glares to Itachi, the young heir taking the role of power Orochimaru had longed for.

"I can discuss terms with my father to give you a salary rise-"

"No compromise, _Itachi. _I gave you such a long time to **disappear **but you never did. Now it is time to _pay_"

The man held the heir higher, the smaller of the two beginning to choke and gasp for air. With this his attacker chuckled and his grasp only became tighter.

From only five metres away behind a pine oak door, Kisame Hoshigaki looked out the window and wondered how he is life would be now. He was unaware Itachi was still near, slowly losing his battle as his body begged for a simple breath that one would not even consider.

He gasped hopelessly, feeling fatigue take over. His eyes flickered, only just remaining awake when sleep seemed so tempting.

"Now listen to me" Orochimaru hissed "You are going to **leave**. I don't care where, I don't care how. You and that blonde bitch will be gone by tomorrow-"

"That's impossible-" He gasped but only earned a harder grip "-**or** I'll have to start pulling some _strings _to show you I mean **business**!"

He grabbed Itachi's ponytail and pulled with all his strength, feeling several hairs come out between his fingers yet not having enough.

The slam against the wall made a noise that woke Kisame from his mourning.

What was that? He wondered, yet hesitated on finding out.

"Does it hurt?" He squealed when he held him up in the air not by his neck, but his hair.

"**Beg **me to let you go! _Cry_ for me Itachi, tell me I am superior. Either that or wait until your hair breaks!"

Itachi was silent, and remained so. He'd felt pain so much worse.

He would not beg.

Orochimaru sneered but dropped the Uchiha. He fell upon unprepared legs and collapsed upon the hard tiles. The floor made impact with his skull and rattled its contents. He looked towards the doorway he had walked out of, the transmit room with its door firmly closed. What would have happened if he stayed? Precipitously, Kisame decided to see what the racket was outside and opened the door. Itachi's withdrawn body was curled up while the heel of Orochimaru was placed against his temple hard enough to bruise. Hissing disgusting nothings the serpent glanced up and heard a deep, daunting snarl. Hoshigaki dived onto accuser and tackled him to the floor with all his weight. The advisor was tossed as easily as a leaf in the breeze, his backside and elbows colliding painfully with the tiled floor as he gasped for breath like a fish out of water.

Kisame made a fist and thought no mercy when he beat Orochimaru. The feeling of broken cartilage under blue knuckles was not enough to repay the debt for what he had done. He raised his knee and brought it into Orochimaru's feeble chest with the force of ten stallions; he gasped and suddenly knew how Itachi felt was gasping for breath. Kisame showed his sharp teeth in the shape of a deep roar, pulling himself off the blood soaked business man and wiping his palms upon his trouser legs.

"I'm not finished"

The muscular man grabbed his prey by the crumpled collar and dragged him across the floor. The sound of chafed skin upon varnished floor was much like nails on a chalkboard but to Hoshigaki sounded like music to his ears. Walking a fair way down the hallway, he hurled the anatomy like a bag of bones out into the darkness with one arm, to once again collide with the floor.

"I suggest leaving if you wish to see another day, Mr Orochimaru" Polite yet somehow bringing the depths of Hell to the surface of earth.

From the darkness there could be heard a small cackle that caused Itachi to shudder.

"You'll regret this Uchiha!" Orochimaru spat like venom "I'll make sure you know what I am capable of!" He screeched terribly before disappearing down the hallway with a limp that would plague him for several days and scars that would follow him to his grave. A trail of blood followed his path as he stumbled into the den and passed unconscious upon the floor.

He had not been the first victim to Kisame, demon shark. Alas there were so many more whose names had become empty memories over the years. When the snake had slithered back to its hole he bolted back to the floor bound boy and held him protectively.

"Itachi. Itachi. Are you ok? Please… please"

For a moment Kisame thought he was dead, and considered killing himself too. They would be found side by side, one lost for breath the other having a letter opener buried deep within his heart. It wasn't even considered as suicide, just as an instinct thing to do.

Hoshigaki the business man realized how unbearable it was: this feeling of loss. It was even worse than before, knowing he was alive and knowing he was simply gone were two different things. Kisame closed his eyes and pulled his geisha closer and cursed that disgusting snake.

His eyes opened, and Itachi was revived. Sitting up and blinking rapidly as he desperately gasped for air to fill him from inside out. The oxygen flowed down his aching throat more heavenly than any stream. His eyes were lidded and senses shut but the hand rubbing his back spread warm fire through him.

"Are you ok?" He asked.

The gasping man nodded, and Kisame sighed with relief.

"Was that who you wanted to forget?" The shark whispered as he held the little Uchiha as a mother would her child. Itachi shook his head and crawled from the embrace, balancing on his feet like a newborn deer. The clonks of his wooden shoes echoed as he regained posture but his eyes remained misted.

He was back where he started, loveless and heartless.

"Thank you, Kisame" The weasel said and bowed, this time in gratitude. It was a darling sight. Itachi stood on the end of his sandals simply to reach the other man's cheek with his rose pink lips. They gathered some skin between Cupid's bow and performed what was known as a kiss. He pulled away gently and took several steps back again.

Hoshigaki raised his hand to his cheek; it felt like it had caught fire

Both stood in silence until Kisame saw it was time to leave, no matter how much was wanted to stay. Itachi did not love him and he could not force feelings to grow from mere nothing.

"Well, goodbye again" He murmured and Kisame began walking, away from what he needed and towards what he should've wanted. Itachi stood still, unknowingly holding his face. He was torn and each step that echoed through the hallway was pressuring him to decide.

The Uchiha thought of Sasuke, his poor brother he should've saved from death's hands. The two mourning faces of his parents turning away from him and leaving him in the darkness. The endless string of clients he had, without his senseless heart he would surely die.

It was what Itachi Uchiha needed, it was what he needed to remain in walls he were familiar with.

Yet, it was not what he wanted.

"Wait!"

Kisame turned as Itachi walked after him down the hall with a fast stride. Before getting a metre close, he stopped. Taking in a large breath, Itachi opened the door and left his room that he had occupied for amany years.

"May I please come to visit you?"

Hoshigaki was stunned. It seemed that lady luck had blessed him once more. "Sure, I mean of course. Yes, that's fine, cool".

"About business of course. Taking over my Father's position when he retires I would like to get acquainted with my workers"

They both knew this 'business' was simply a lie that reeked of simplicity yet neither said a word.

"Oh ok, that's cool".

Running back into the office, Hoshigaki snatched a marker he had remembered seeing and returned. Grasping Itachi's hand, he pulled the lid off with a click and began to write. On a paper white palm black block letters were placed. When Kisame finished the address, he placed a kiss upon the hand before sealing it as he closed the Uchiha's fist.

"I won't forget" Itachi said as he saw a phase of concern on the others face.

Kisame simply smiled.

"I don't expect you to, you're too excited about it to do so"

Hoshigaki laughed as Itachi was taken aback by the shark man's confidence. Turning on his heel the blushing man skittered down the dark passage way towards a rounding corner.

Kisame could not help but stay to see Itachi slowly disappearing into the shadows; yet he felt far from shattered. Two days from now they would be sitting, _talking. _No sex, only words would weave around each other rather than horny pants. This tea date was simply the roots to a million branches that could sprout new possibility.

Ending on that higher note, Kisame began the long and winding journey back to where ever he had come from.

As much as he despised the stereotypical facial gesture, Itachi let a small shard of new hope cover his lips in a gentle smile.

It had been so long.

**This chapter ended happily, that's a first. **

**Thanks for reading. Have any hunches on what is going to happen? Tell me, I love to hear them.**

**For anybody that is interested, I am in the middle of writing an Amnesia fanfiction. Anyone?**

***Crickets Chirp***


	7. Worried men

**Some of you may see the difference between this chapter on Friday/Saturday night and now. I reuploaded, due to re-reading this and seeing I made alot of personality mistakes. Thank you so much See1like for questioning this and making me think twice. :)**

**But here it is, on Saturday as I promised.**

**Rated M, I do not own Naruto.**

**I am listening to Marilyn Manson, so this'll cruise by.**

**Enjoy faithful readers. **

**XXX**

He would be wearing black today. The harsh blue black sky outside predicted it. Something delicate tied up with silk string, maybe he would have a scheme of red, blue and black? It would be an untold story until the clock struck six at night, the time Kisame Hoshigaki expected a beautiful visitor. Each minute ticked by like an eternity and Kisame's constant tapping kept in beat with the watch around his wrist. He had been sitting for ten minutes, swishing the contents in his wine glass in clockwise circles much like a cyclone's wrath. It had a musky taste of berries and cinnamon that shielded the alcohol.

Would Itachi like this? Hoshigaki wondered. It was rather fruity and sugary and Itachi appeared to be the kind of man who –secretly- adorned sweets. It would contrast beautifully against his stone cold personality.

Another minute ticked by and the shark man groaned, rubbing his stubble free cheeks and feeling the presence of scars from long ago. There were three on each cheek, identical to each other. He had carved them into his face with a box cutter, stupidity and youth combining to form the idea that they were gills, and he was a shark. That was so many years ago, back when he had lived with Sasori and life had been unmistakably young.

That had been when he was a permanent resident in America, when he was a risk taker, drug abusing; woman using, lying street fighter. He smiled while he sipped the red, thinking of how things had changed so much.

The knock at the door had Kisame hurdling from his chair over the coffee table to be faced with a woman with low blonde pigtails and large breasts handing out towels. He took them with false gratitude and shut the door before tossing them in the laundry basket.

This hotel had too much convenience for his liking. Although this didn't matter, it wouldn't when Itachi arrived. Everything would be coated in a silver lining and would lead on from there. Where he went was not really the concern but only if Itachi was there.

Hoshigaki sat back down, and tapped his wine glass with his ring impatiently. He waited, sending his mind to sleep into one of his many fantasies; not that he would need them as the Uchiha was almost in his hands. He would buy a teahouse and they would move into it, away from Madara Uchiha and Orochimaru. They would be names without faces. Itachi would hate coffee and love tea. The dango he would make would have too much syrup at too little rice, but still be perfect. The love they made during moonless nights would be better than anything he had ever had before. The glow that flared softly would lull them both to sleep. He had many mindless thoughts in between dormant and wake before jolting awake and looking downwards to his clock.

It was seven thirty; Itachi was to arrive at six.

It worried him; heavily. After the incident with the slimy advisor Kisame had been nail biting nervous about the young man's life. It he had not walked out Itachi would be somewhere far worse that in the arms of Madara. Bed ridden, in the hospital, in a grave.

He gulped and speed dialled number four.

_He lives on the outskirts of Tokyo so travelling here should not be so bad. I bet he got caught in traffic, or the train broke down. I know that's it. I'll get worried sick and it'll just be the stupid train. It's always like that, isn't it? _

The phone rang, once, then twice.

_Nothing is wrong with Itachi and I'm acting like a mother. Please let Itachi be walking down public streets, not in the dark alleyways. Would he walk or simply get driven there? Madara has the money for a private chauffeur, but he doesn't seem the kind of Father to let his son out of sight. When it goes eight I'll start looking outside. _

It rang three times, then approached a fourth.

_Oh my God. What am I thinking? Itachi Uchiha would not be late. If I go out looking for him he might arrive when I leave, but if I don't worse could happen out there than in here. I could leave him a note on the door- no, don't be so stupid! I trust Itachi and I trust him to stay safe. That doesn't mean I don't trust that advisor..._

"What do you want?"

The voice was deep, impatient and hostile; just what Kisame needed to hear.

"I need Madara's number" Hoshigaki said smoothly, trying to relax his tense muscles.

The sound of rustling bedsheets, a white haired male trying to pull the mobile phone from the other ear. Kakuzu groaned in anger and looked towards his sleeping quarters that called to him like a siren. Hidan blew stray strands from his forehead and didn't realize that today his eyes shone brighter than yesterday.

They allured Kakuzu.

"I don't have it" the other side of the device grumbled.

"Well" Kisame began to pace, picking up speed "Who has it?"

"Nobody does, he only contacts you. The chauffeur took us to his mansion so I don't know where he lives either. Goodbye"

He snapped his phone shut and approached his comrade, wearing a veil of sheets that he tore off with both hands.

They were living a dream while Kisame was plunged deeper into his virtual nightmare.

It was seven forty and there was no-one sitting in the arm chair opposite.

The door delivered three steady knocks and Kisame –once again- dropped everything to answer.

The woman again, blonde and busty, saying she would come around with other supplies that she would force upon him. He –once again- accepted gratefully and slammed the door closed.

Looking at the door, Kisame grasped his coat, phone and wallet and walked out the doorframe towards the stairs. He could've leaned his ear upon the door of room 453 to listen to Hidan squealing as his orgasm approached, but the act didn't interest him.

He worried, and fretted and seemed to turn grey beneath his fingers from Itachi Uchiha. He was haunted by fear and stalked by concern.

What had happened to that happiness he once felt? The ghost of a smile that coated his lips after he knew Itachi would be visiting him by his own will. Could his content simply dissapeared, or did Itachi steal it with his unseen appearance?

He would run round the city until sunrise looking for the Uchiha, he would never give up on the first person he loved.

Waving his arms like a lunatic, Kismane found a taxi and the driver immediately asked him where he wanted to go. Handing him all the money in his wallet Hoshigaki asked him to simply 'drive around'. The man in his late forties looked at his with one raised brow but took his large pay and complied.

From the window, the whole city looked like a painting. Hoshigaki rubbed his eyes and looked out for one face with aging lines and hair that was never too soft.

XXX

Itachi had decided to tell Sasuke about Kisame shortly before he caught the subway to centre Tokyo. His brother had been the curious type and would've shunned him for not telling him of his rendezvous. The flowers he bought were lilies, usually he would purchase cherry blossoms but today there was hope circling his head like the first words of a child. The old woman at the till smiled sadly and started small talk that Itachi returned. She had been working here for five years and most of those years the handsome young buy which such sad eyes would always buy flowers, but always the same cherry blossoms. Today the lilies smelt even nicer when she wrapped them, and glowed in the early evening like stars. She had always assumed they were for a lady friend, rather than a grave.

The Uchiha walked down the alley behind small houses with children darting through the holes in the fence. A cat yowled and hopped from its perch while the setting sun alerted mothers to call in their young.

His flat shoes scraped along the dirt path and caused dust to rise. The kimono he wore today was shorter coloured gold. He wore modern thin black jeans and traditional Chinese shoes. Was he trying to impress? He remembered a client from long ago telling him he looked beautiful in gold, the compliment had floated to the surface of his mind when thinking of what to wear.

Yes, something had definitely changed. The journey remained the same but something had changed.

This was the path Itachi always took, one so familiar he swore his footprints would forever be engraved in the dry dusty path. The Uchiha looked up towards the sky, a canvas split with brown, red and gold that drizzled into black. Had it always been this beautiful from such a low view?

The sensational flow of acceptance made him feel at one with the world. All this forgiveness caused by one protective hand? Itachi held the bouquet tighter to suppress his smile and kept walking.

Why Madara thought of these streets as menacing, the young heir would never know. They were friendly, playful and tame; even in the moon's light.

How had it gotten dark so fast? Itachi realized he was merely halfway to the cemetery and quickened his pace.

"If a body meets a body, coming through the rye..."

It had been an old melody their mother used to say while washing the dishes. When her hair was thick and eyes were wide it was a simple tune that kept her hands moving and her smile bright.

"If a body kiss a body..." The Uchiha muttered under his breath, only for him to hear "Need a body cry?"

Then he smelt it. It was a thick fume coming through the air like shadow's fingers. It stuck to his tongue like tar and Itachi coughed quietly in his other hand. Someone must've lit their fireplace close by, the smoke from the chimney invading the street below. Although the smoke came in gallons across the striking sky and he wondered if it all came from one chimney.

"I am late" Was the only thing Itachi needed to say to start walking faster down the path, his destination reaching closer with each fast step. Itachi Uchiha did not notice the faint sirens in the distance, the screams of mourners and a blonde haired adolescent running through the streets trying too hard to dry his tears upon his sleeve. Although Deidara's tears came faster than his wiping hand, the salty droplets fell upon quivering lips before ending themselves upon the dirt path. He didn't know this path, it was unfamiliar. All he knew was this was the path that Itachi walked, and this was all he needed.

"I can't let him-". Deidara didn't need to finish his sentence to the full houses and protective rooftops. They could already see the tips of the flames licking the sky with forked tongues.

XXX

_"To be reborn, you first must die" _

_"What the Hell does that even means?" _

_He placed his hand upon the younger man's chin, ignoring the sticky sensation of blood and positioning his head to face the sky to face the heavens. It was dark and miserable with predictions of rain, it suited the day so well. The man on the floor was named Kisame Hoshigaki and was about to die from a heroin overdose. The saint next to him had no name but would later be known as Kakuzu. In the memory that played over as a dream, he was something of a Christian facing his head towards God. _

_Suddenly the man in a business suit and mid length black hair brought a foot to his backbone. Kisame howled and tried to stand but his limbs seemed entwined in the spell of heroin. _

_He thought he was going to die, and had been quite content about it. His mother was dead and his father was in an unknown place, he'd been sent to an orphanage and then a juvenile detention centre and barely scraped through the bars of prison. He had drank, fought, fucked and smoked as if wanting to stretch himself to the limits. _

_Finally, after the needle probed his bloodstream for the last time and flushed red cells with the ecstasy of a lifetime, his life clock ever so slightly slowed. The red bile he had coughed upon his hand had been a message from the reaper to expect, and Hoshigaki was far from bothered. _

_"Die" the man said "You are a worthless drug addicted bastard. Die, tell me you have died and then I can help you". _

_Another memory, only a second or two. A tortured scream and the smash of china plates upon a tiled floor. Tears ran down only one face as a woman was pushed to the ground with her dress ripped off by the seams. Their child, a mix between both white and tinged blue, sitting upon the carpet one room away listening to every word absent mindedly. _

_Another scene. A crime scene. The scattered painting of blood upon the white pavement with the contrast of inky strands of human hair. Twisted limbs and caved in cheeks with scratched out eyes and teeth ripped from the gums. Satin clothes torn and shoes thrown aside, an investigator picks up the small sandal carelessly and tosses it into a black garbage bag. _

_Itachi's whole body goes into the bag, and all Kisame can do is watch. It's tossed into the bin like a broken toy, left to rot. Kisame watches his eyes, slowly dissolve to nothing. _

_Never to blink, never to change. _

_This wasn't a memory, this was a prediction. A terrible thought that had crept upon him when the concern had become too much. Now even in rest he could not escape the inevitable truth that it was eight thirty and Itachi was nowhere to be seen. _

Kisame woke, abruptly. The phone lay beside him, the steady beep of the other line deafening him. They must've hung up when Kisame had dozed away. Had had called people, said names and words that could've helped him find the missing Uchiha. Nobody knew what he was trying to find.

People from the past had set off these memories with the talk of the past, damned memories. The taxi was still moving, drifting down streets the business man had searched from the window. He could see children's breaths hanging in the air and he prayed that Itachi had a coat, or jacket.

Hoshigaki looked at his own coat in shame and ended the call on his phone, noticing it was eight thirty five.

Two hours and thirty minutes. What could've happened in that time? Mutilation, dissection and sexual humiliation foced upon a Japanese boy with hair that couldn't hold the weight.

He hadn't remember the last part of the dream, until now. The future he had created with such sinful wonders that he despised.

Itachi's death.

The panic came back, as a wave of despair. He gasped for breath and reassurance that the Uchiha was ok but only got the stone cold silence of a heavy sea of doubt.

The driver kept driving, fuelled by his pay.

There was the image again, his body left to rot without knowledge. As if the whole world had given up on him. It quickened his heart beats and heated his brain because it could be very true.

Then, looking out the window the thought was pushed aside to be replaced by one even worse than the last.

"Stop!"

The middle aged driver had learned to obey with such agile speed that the moment the words left Hoshigaki's mouth rubber and tar created iddyelic friction. He threw open the suicide door and ran across the road, cars screaming at his sudden appearance on the busy high street.

Did he even acknowledge the reaper chasing after his tail? His scythe so close to his neck he could feel death, it didn't scare him in the slightest.

Itachi's state was all he cared about.

There it was. A veil of smoke covering the sky. In the centre midst of this smoke, the sky had been stained red and yellow.

Something was alight, something big.

He could hear firearm sirens and people screaming.

He prayed Itachi was there, but not involved.

It was the only link he was going to find. Kisame screwed his cowardness and ran through the darkness.

Sprint, sprint, trip. Fall to his knees to haul himself back up. An accidental routine as he wandered, searching, hoping with everything he could muster that Itachi would be around the next corner.

XXX

The Uchiha was now very late, that he was sure of. Frustrated at himself for admiring every particle that caused him not to notice the ink spill upon the parchment sky, now darker than a pupil. He would apologize to Kisame formally, and also with a gentle embrace of the lips. The Uchiha blushed lightly and kept walking in a fast rhythm. The flowers rustled with each step, hiding the sound of approaching footsteps from Itachi's line of hearing. They came closer with each step Itachi took. Soon they would cross paths and that is what counted most. When the footsteps rounded the corner only did Itachi notice a second presence close by. He stopped, and so did the man from around the bend. Gulping down his fears, he burst from the shadows in a ditzy revealing and sprung towards his foster brother.

"Itachi-san!" Deidara chirped, hugging Itachi tighter that usual.

Itachi couldn't keep all his surprise and his suspition concealed under his mask.

"What are you doing here, Deidara?"

Deidara bit his lip so hard he thought he would cut right through it. the tears he had masked had began to dribble and he tried to laugh them away.

"Just walking, Itachi-san" He lied through his teeth, praying his brother would suspect nothing that lay down the path he had came from "What about you?"

"Visiting Sasuke, then meeting a friend" He answered while eyeing the blonde to try and read his lies "What's wrong?"

Deidara tried to laugh again but it combined with a sob and his bottom bitten lip began trembling "N-nothing, Itachi-san! Why do you say that?"

There was silence. Now they both knew. It had been worth a shot, but Deidara knew he couldn't have disguised his sadness, its silent scream would lift to the surface of any human being. Itachi tried to sidestep his brother but the blonde blocked his path with his limbs outstetched and whispered a simple word 'No'.

"Why?"

If he spoke, he would break. The wax that held his wings would simply melt under the burning sun and he would fall to an inevitable death. He couldn't let the Uchiha see him so weak. He remained silent with the tears now leaving their ducts and trickling down his face and onto the path that had once been so familiar but now seemed alientating.

Itachi was scared.

It was the sensation of pure fear, the pause between the good news and the bad that caused stomachs to drop. The hints had been laid down like arrows pointing to a box he had to open, a box that would never shut once it had been revealed. Life had been so beautiful ten minutes prior. He could just turn around and go back, keeping walking and leave the unwanted present to the side. Although in reality, truth will find you wherever you stand.

This dread, this feeling is what Itachi feared.

This time the force he used to push past Deidara was harsh, violent and animalistic. The crying boy fell to the ground by rose quickly to bolt after his cherished brother that ran down the last road that lead to the cemetery.

Itachi could hear sirens, louder this time.

"Itachi, stop!"

Not even the flower's traquil noises could overthrow the screams of people.

"Please!"

The smoke was more dense and filled his chest like black bile.

"Don't! I don't want you to see!"

He neared the corner, only five steps away from opening the door that was never there before.

"ITACHI!"

The boy called Itachi stepped from one side to another and stopped, and knew the box had consumed him whole.

**Thanks for dealing with my ways. **

**Reviews?**

**Next chapter will be done shortly. **

**Thanks. X**


	8. Breaking men

**I'm sorry this chapter is late. I have been having too much fun doing social things during this small holiday I have. This chapter was originally one but I found that in two I could update it faster and extend some parts without severely killing readers (remember 11 pages T-T). Although, I assure you I will never stop writing this story until the end, that's a promise. **

**It is very cold in Australia, typing hurts my fingers.**

**I do not own Naruto.**

**Enjoy. **

**XXX**

_"Nii-san?"_

_Itachi turned to see his brother standing in the doorway, a burning matched held between his plump fingers._

_"What's this?" he asked with such innocence, yet jumped out of his skin when Itachi flew from his seat to snatch the yellow flame and stamp it out quickly. Sasuke stood in confusion, crying out when Itachi shook him in a tight grip._

_"I told you __**never **__to play with fire, Sasuke!" he growled, a tone that caused the five year old to tear up. He shook the boy with all the worry that wracked him, thinking himself that he may begin to cry._

_"Itachi..." Sasuke blubbered before running out of his brother's grip and towards his parents' bedroom, tears tailing his blind stumble. It was a display of a child's emotions, so fragile that even the faintest shake can cause the contents to tip. Itachi sighed and let his weight fall against his door, looking at the what was left of the match upon the carpet. _

_He was scared, so scared that his fear was processed to anger. This had happened before but never towards his brother. Itachi always tried to keep his voice low and eyes bright, even when Sasuke pulled out a tantrum or did something unbelievably stupid that was normal for toddlers. _

_Matches, fire; this was something far different._

_A mere lick of flame could send up a house in smoke and blister his brother's skin black. His eyes would be bulged as his lips were formed into a hopeless scream when the smoke twisted down his throat like vines, burning until there was nothing left but ash._

_Tears fell like candy hearts and covered the older brother's legs that he held tightly to his chest. He tried to slow down his racing heart but couldn't._

_Sasuke could have changed from is to was in an instant, a click of the fingers even._

_Itachi's breathes were shaken as he tried to stand to push away this feeling._

The place of burial was hailed in flames that stained the edges of the sky. Black smoke had pushed the good mind-set away and painted sunsets with black dip. A young boy cradled by his father asked him openly if it was the end of the world, as it seemed so much so. The child didn't appear concerned, just confused.

The son pulled his head away from his father's embrace and looked towards the man standing next to him. This man looked so sad yet his face remained in a state of shock. His black hair had come loose and stuck to the gold of his –rather beautiful- kimono. He held a bunch of flowers that were to go to someone in the graveyard now alive with combustion.

The boy wanted to ask the young man if he was ok, but his father pulled him away from the scene.

Sasuke Uchiha's grave was burning to the ground along with a million more unfortunate souls that fuelled this demon blaze.

Itachi's arms fell open. There was a small popping in his ears one would've felt on an airplane. The lilies dropped to the littered road; still tightly bundled in their bouquet. Their virgin petals were trampled by heavy boots of men with hoses, never to be seen as what they were. Soon the gift of flowers was a pallet of sickly green wound in gold string and bound in foil.

Destroyed, like everything else.

The Uchiha stared, eyes incapable of moving from the spectacle. He thought it was a joke, some sick thought he had produced from the deepest pits of his mentality. After a second or two he waited to see the silent graveyard and the common vandalism that were always there, always waiting to greet him on a midnight visits.

The flames did not cease.

Only then did he see Sasuke, he could've recognized his brother from a million others. His grave was near the nucleus of the fire, the withering cherry blossoms Itachi had placed there on his last visit now having the little life they had left pulled from him but greedy fire. The small shrine once so beautiful with white reduced to simple wood and stone. His brother's headstone began to turn coal black, his mere name fogging over and becoming something of the past. Itachi could see his baby brother screaming within the heat, reaching out hopelessly towards his older, living brother.

He fell to his knees as the weight of the world crushed him. At first he bit down upon his trembling lip to stop his sobs, trying desperately to hold his atmosphere on shaking hands that sand could fall through. When he realized there was no hope, he wept freely, restrained tears flowing down his cheeks.

"Sasuke" he wept, clawing onto his clothing to keep himself from sinking into the darkness.

He wondered how it was possible to have so many memories plague him in one single second. He wondered why the world hated his mere existence. He wondered why they took his baby brother away.

"Sasuke" was all he could whisper from trembling lips to keep him afloat upon his tide of terror. There were others like him, mourners fenced from their loved ones by the hands of officials that told them that the fire was only getting worse and there was nothing they could do. Although they were allowed to smile, allowed to be joyful and enraged; they were allowed to _feel. _The Uchiha heir never _felt_, he was like a robot. The tears hissed upon the ash covered ground and it seemed that the angels were sobbing alongside him.

Suddenly, hope came. It was terrible, but it was his savior. He sat up slowly, heaving for a drink of fresh air.

There was a light at the end of the tunnel, someone that could help him.

Kisame Hoshigaki, the man he loved.

Yes, _loved. _

Kisame could save him from this dark future, this banshee like monster that threatened to consume him.

"Kisame…" he whispered, like a prayer on his lips wet from tears. He would be fixed, Hoshigaki playing the part of the doll maker; putting in place the pieces of his broken heart with skilled hands. Everything would be ok, Sasuke would be ok.

Itachi would be ok.

The heir went to stand, but realized he had forgotten the address, the stupid, damned address.

_"I won't forget" Itachi said as he saw a phase of concern on the others face._

He had been so stupidly cocky but that didn't matter, Kisame had somehow seen future events.

_Grasping Itachi's hand, he pulled the pen lid off with a click and began to write. On a paper white palm black block letters were placed. When Kisame finished the address, he placed a kiss upon the hand before sealing it as he closed the Uchiha's fist._

"Please" he begged as he looked down towards his palm to try and read the address. He had looked at it so many times, so why had it done this?

Blurred, he had foolishly wiped his tears away with this hand. The address was unreadable.

The young man curled into a ball, holding his toes while weeping. He was swallowed by the darkness and fell into a belly of black.

He was completely alone in a place full of people.

XXX

The fire was ravenous for something more than simple tombstones.

"Oh shit!" the onlooker explained when a forked red tongue shot out at him. His arms shielded his face, blue eyes squinting to try look past the wall of fire.

"Sir, watch out!"

Mr. Hoshigaki was pushed aside as a fireman desperately struggled to handle the blaze. It bubbled and crackled and called to pyromaniacs like a woman in silk.

This was the end of the trail, a dead end. The fire had been his chance and his downfall. It had been a sash in the sky and the only arrow towards Itachi's whereabouts. Kisame began pacing in the small space he had, surrounded by a small crowd of onlookers.

What was on fire? Kisame wasn't sure. He couldn't tell, it was almost burned to the ground.

The flames were almost hypnotizing if you looked in them for too long.

A woman spoke in fluent Japanese to police officer, the man nodding his head each time she finished a sentence. Several people were being interrogated, even though they were innocent souls drying their eyes discreetly.

But Kisame Hoshigaki had seen such sorrow before, more than once. The damned emotion seemed to follow after his step but never caught up. Why did this scenario did looked so…rigged?

"Itachi, where are you?" he asked beyond the flames towards a mortal who knew. The wind picked up and tossed leaves away, the calamity becoming more of a threat per minute. The blue skinned business man decided on his next path, left or right? Left took him down the darker alleyways that tourists were told to avoid, the right hand trail led him into the heart of the fire.

Out of curiousity, he took one step right. Hot air was blown into his face.

There was something not right with this scene. He did not know if it was the colours of heat clashing with the freezing ice atmosphere, or something entirely different. Something had been –intentionally- misplaced.

A young woman in a purple coat was being pulled away from the cemetery, her hands outstretched as she howled. Wide, white eyes reflecting red flames as the name 'Neji' rolled off her tongue. The girl tried to run through the gate with bars so hot they turned crimson, but failed. Officers looked broken inside, pulling her away from someone she must've loved. Her tears glittered in the light and a black fleck of ash stuck to her cheek.

From somewhere in the shadows to the left, someone chuckled.

Kisame had heard it, clear as day; even over the woman's screams.

The voice was familiar and struck a cod of recognizable.

"Itachi?" he called into the darkness of the alleyway. The voice laughed again, this time at Kisame. The addressed man walked further into the shadows, losing himself in his curiousity. As he reached the end of the lane, the darkness behind him formed into the shape of a man. He slithered and slinked and slimed across the road covered in burnt history. For a moment Hoshigaki was fooled it was Itachi, but only for a moment.

Now in the red rays of the fire, Orochimaru hissed in the same suit as before "It's a terrible disaster, is it not? Fire, I mean". The advisor began circling the business man, knowing his prey was restrained.

"What did you do?" Hoshigaki growled, trying to stop his hands from shaking.

_Itachi is fine, he has to be. _

"Shouldn't you be looking for that lover of yours? That snooty bastard that ruined my career?" the anger in his voice increased "_Itachi_? Yes, that's his name. He should _burn _in the flames of Hell"

Kisame stepped back.

_He couldn't have done anything, he's too weak. _

Orochimaru laughed and the stronger man grabbed the snake's collar and snarled once more with a grip of iron "What did you do?"

He pulled something from his pocket, Kisame had to restrain himself from tearing the serpent's head from his weedy body. The item he pulled from his pocket was a simple device, something that could be found almost anywhere. With a click the known object did what it did best.

The lighter had a small, orange flicker coming from the top. It took Hoshigaki a moment to connect the small device, the menacing grin and Hell in front of him.

"Fire is a saint, is it not?"

Kisame ran back the way he came and turned right, firemen still holding the weeping girl that called for Neji. He clasped the red hot lock upon the gate and tore it open, running through the unknown destination alit with flames. The girl screamed louder, they all did; some even began crying for the death they just witnessed. Some tried to run after the blue skinned business man, but could not find the courage to do so.

They could only hear the name Itachi being screamed louder than a foghorn, ringing like a bell through an empty courtyard.

XXX

"Hey kid, you ok?"

When he woke, Itachi felt empty. The man above him held him and placed him onto a bench, wiping the soot from his forehead before returning to the raging fire.

Oh yes, the fire; it had been real.

Uchiha stood, looking at his hands and then his feet.

Why didn't he care? That bastard burned his brother to the ground and had probably been aiming to kill him and he simply felt the beating of his heart, like a drum.

Now he felt nothing, it was his punishment. Once he could've cried on the inside, but now he was empty.

Sasuke was burning, and he couldn't feel his heart ache.

All he felt was _thump thump, thump thump. _

Emotional detachment, he knew the meaning of the word. A numb sensation that occurred after a tragic emotional blow, it made a victim careless and emotionless and positively hollow. He'd seen many cases in the past, and now the poor victim was his reflection.

Itachi stared at his clothes and was tempted to tear the garments off.

He looked disgusting in such rags, a blind man must've complimented him.

He slipped off his left shoe and placed his heel onto a burning umber. It sizzled into his soft skin then red flesh. The pain was small, almost unrecognizable.

It had suddenly turned freezing cold outside.

Deidara rounded the corner, pushed and shoved by crowds and firemen desperately trying to save the dead cause. As he stood in front of the fire he stopped abruptly and stared bug eyed. It had grown like a virus, now catching to the tree tops and proving to be a fully fledged disaster. He prayed to all the Gods he believed in that nobody had been killed.

He wretched, the smell, it was putrid and strong. It hung in the air at death's side and came from the burning corpses.

Itachi stared into the flames, his body made of marble that glowed red and orange against the orange and black sky. He couldn't tell if he'd noticed Deidara or not, his mind didn't want to work.

He was different from the others that sobbed for their lost ones. He was silent and still.

Deidara would've seen it as beautiful if it had not been so frightening.

The mourner's eyes were empty sockets while his skin held home to no spirit.

He was a husk and something was terribly wrong.

Deidara lightly stepped over plastic flowers and charred wood as he approached his brother, fear rising up from his bowels to cause his hands to tremble.

"Itachi, thank God you're ok, un"

He was silenced by the screams of an old woman weeping as her son's last memorial rose into smoke.

"Itachi"

The blonde was a whisper over the sirens, screams and white noise that buzzed through the Uchiha's ears like a fly turned upon its back on a window pane. He had heard his name called by someone a million years away. Did he even know this man? It was his brother, yet only by law. Maybe he could pretend to love him?

Itachi turned his head slowly, his blank face a sight that caused Deidara to gulp.

"I-I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." he blubbered, and finished "I'm here for you, un-"

"Itachi!"

Itachi snapped his head around, looking for the source of his name, but could not find it. He could've sworn it came from the fire, but he dismissed the thought as stupid.

The Uchiha took a step forward with both feet now bare, while Deidara took one back. He feared this man approaching yet shoved his heels in the ground to stop himself backing away.

Itachi floated like a ghost, swarms of people pushing past him not changing the expression upon his face. He wondered if this is what dying felt like and knew this was much worse.

Everything he had built and everything Mr. Hoshigaki had held was nothing more than dust.

He felt nothing except the cold.

"Go home, Deidara"

Deidara stumbled upon his words "I-I won't go home without you, un"

"Why?" the black haired boy spat as if he'd simply shattered a glass. He wanted to hug his arms for warmth. The only place that was warm was the soles of his feet burned by red coals.

"Because..." the blonde once again moved forward with caution "We're brothers, Itachi", and took three strides to embrace his brother.

The man he loved, his own forbidden fruit.

He smelt of lilies and ash, Deidara breathed in and closed his eyes.

With a swift movement, the back of his hand struck Deidara with force. He stumbled backwards and fell onto his rear, not feeling the stinging seer over the mind freezing shock. Even in the reflection of the red flames Itachi could see the blood swelling under once clear skin. He had bruised a canvas with ugly paint and however many times he painted over the stain it would always be there. It wouldn't be seen but it would make itself know and be known.

A stain so hideous would never fade.

Itachi's hand was still held upright, ruby from the impact it made with his brother's face.

"You are not my brother"

All he felt was cold now.

Nobody helped the blonde to his feet, they simply walked past the injured man, too concerned with their own misfortunes.

Itachi looked towards the flames, then the raging cheek; before floating away down the alley he came.

Deidara called out, yet his voice was lost with tears.

XXX

"Itachi!"

He must have heard him, unless… "Itachi!"

The fire burnt him, he would've screamed but there was already enough smoke in his lungs. All he could see was the devil's tendrils, hot and forked as they licked the face of the earth.

"Itachi" his voice was hoarse now, only a whisper; but he still called "Itachi"

Kisame held his right ear, it was burnt badly. His hair crackled and his skin was close to bubbling, but he'd been in worse pain. It had only been a minute and he was close to burning his entire wick down to a feeble stump. All he kept on hand was the knowledge that somewhere in this fire, was the purpose for Orochimaru's wrath.

Itachi, it had only been so long and he was –probably- going to die for the young man.

The blue skinned man remembered nights in Tokyo, the red eyes and pale white baby skin, the last month becoming something of a series of events witnessed by Kisame but not registering. He'd met his only love, his new boss and a man intent of summoning the devil in a show of red. He'd been left to die, picked up, tossed onto the pavement and filled with expensive alcohol.

Had it only been a month?

"Ah!" he cried out as a tree branch almost fell on him from above. If he stayed within the fire any longer he would die, surely. Even if the fire was tame, its victims were not; another branch could easily cripple him. Kisame knew couldn't waste time, yet he did; spinning in circles like a child's toy. The flames were tearing at his suit, already burning the skin underneath.

He had to escape, but Itachi could still be trapped. Orochimaru could've tied him to the trunk of a tree to ensure no escape.

_The fire could've burnt through the rope_, Kisame thought, and followed _but how burnt would Itachi be before the blaze even reached the rope? _

He heaved and coughed to try and breathe but only made things worse. The smoke caused his eyes to water and blur and his child's mind map was nothing but television static. Falling to his knees, he barked like a dog and tried to think straight. The small shrub of red flames slowly crept towards the small, free space he owned.

He really was dead this time.

So many times in the past the Reaper had come to take his life, but left empty handed due to a certain individual being generous. This time, death would leave with his hands full, all because of a man that Kisame loved.

He would've cursed love but saved his voice to scream his lover's name once more.

"Itachi! Itachi, tell me where you are?"

There was no response.

"_You're going to die"_

"No, I'm not" Kisame told Itachi's voice that seemed to find a space in his head. Was it all this smoke that caused him his masochist to gain a voice? It had taken on such a beautiful voice, the deep melancholic tone soothed his bones and Kisame remained seated. His sense of reason screamed for him to flee, but Hoshigaki pretended not to listen.

"_Oh is that so?" _the pretend Itachi asked, and it seemed like he would chuckle.

"I am going to live, and find you"

"_I might be already dead"_

"Then I'll die too. Problem solved"

The voice was silent.

"_You are a fool" Itachi spat hatefully._

"Only for you, Itachi" Kisame purred, and even the voice seemed taken back.

Itachi sighed and Kisame knew it was simply his imagination firing off.

"_Look behind you" _it droned.

"Why?"

"_Just look"_

Kisame turned around like he demanded. There was a path, was it the way he'd just came or a way out of this place? Even with blurred vision all he could see was shapes and shadows.

"Where does it lead?" Hoshigaki asked, realizing the flames were creeping closer.

"_Don't ask me, I don't know" _

"Well, should I go? I could die?"

"_Good"_

Itachi was gone, not that he'd ever been. Hoshigaki panted and tried to take a breath.

There was no way but forward, but Itachi could be back. The compass spun like a top and it seemed the stars had tricked him, there was no direction except the one he created. Kisame, almost burnt to the bone, took a lungful of poison laced with oxygen and made his decision.

**I finished it finally, hurray! Don't complain about the fire scene, it's really quite hard to write fires. I had to try find words other that 'fire' to use. T_T **

**Cliffhanger, he might not get out and Itachi is now fucked…**

**Read and Review please, thank you. :D**


	9. Empty men

**I have that feeling when someone had been looking for you, and you don't know it is for good or bad news. It was someone that never looks for me, or even pays attention to me, so why is she looking for me?**

**Worrying, much…**

**Sorry, I have been training for QCS and have no time for writing. I have been scared that if I don't write frequently I'll lose the talent forever, I'm a child like that. But yes, I have been very busy with assignments and studying and tests and etc. **

**Also, my computer is broken, as in at the end of its life after a lifetime of love x. My replies to reviews will take longer but I appreciate every review and every nice word, it helps me get the motivation to write this to you fanfiction fangirls –and boys-. **

**NOTE! In this story, I forgot all about Deidara's mouth hands so let's just say they don't exist. :)**

It was an endearing little park, with rusted swings and broken toys that still called for children that were too scared to approach. Over time the colours had faded, the sense of isolation could be felt with the sting of frost. Itachi wasn't scared, he looked from the merry go round, to the slides and finally laid his vision on the swings that danced softly in the gale. As he passed each item of age, the young man ran a hand over its surface. The red rust of time imbedded tenderly into the palms of his hand. When he touched the see-saw it slammed its other half to the overgrown floor, but Itachi did not feel the sense of fear.

He placed his backside on the swing and pushed off with ash covered soles, easing to the noise of the chain against the once rosy frame.

To a passerby, the lost boy would've looked like a misplaced banshee with tangled black locks.

Itachi remembered taking his brother to this park, playing on this swing. Is this why he had travelled here on running feet? He had more or less let his feet guide him across the stone and sand, away from the fire.

The memory of the fire didn't hurt currently, it was just _there_. It was similar to a glitch, it was simply present and had always been nearby. The Uchiha swung higher until his back began sinking with gravity every time he reached for the heavens. Even from here, the smoke was visible; like a black blot on a page of history. It had all started from petty emotions and raged in this, a tragedy. Not only to Itachi -who no longer felt the pain he would've-, but to those with teary eyes and connections with those who were gone. If the boy with pure blood had the power to, he would feel empathy towards those who did cry.

Each time he swung the noise rose in pitch until howls circled the neighbourhood. Itachi let his right hand grasp for the top of the trees while his left held on not for life, but more for the moderate sense of safety he still had.

"If a body meets a body…" Itachi sung to himself softly, but stopped when a silhouette approached from afar in the same direction he had. The figure had been following him, the Uchiha was sure. It came closer until it stood next to the merry go round.

A determined boy with a bruised cheek held two suitcases in each trembling hand. Two hard thuds echoed down the path as he placed them on the ground. The boy had been crying, weeping until he could picture his brother's face without breaking. He stood with his feet apart, red converse contrasting against the stone riddled path. There was silence, both waiting for Deidara to speak. He gulped down his fears and doubts, and reread the lines he had given himself.

"I've bought two tickets to Paris" Deidara said "you're coming with me, un"

Itachi held the bars as loosely as he did seconds ago but did not fall, his face still absent of an emotion. Slowly the swing took Itachi to the floor, back to where he remained empty. The anger he wished he felt would've fuelled into his hands, slammed the blonde haired head into the bars until the blood ran over the worn innocence. Even with an act so sinful, he wished he could feel something instead of the cold.

"No"

"Why not?" his brother replied in a snarky tone. Itachi did not respond. Each second of hush enraged Deidara further, to the point that he walked towards the child's games with terrible intentions. He seized Itachi's collar and pulled his loose hands from the chains, throwing him several steps in the other direction. The detached man fell like a ragdoll with no intention of getting up. The ground was cold against his cheek, as if only half of his face had been bathed in the morning frost. His brother waited for him to get to his feet but he didn't.

"Why are you like this?" the blonde shrieked, running to his brothers side and pulling him to his feet "Dealing with Sasuke is hard, but you can't lock yourself up like this, un! You can talk to me! How do you think I feel, your own brother?"

"You're not my brother" the boy muttered, half suspended in the man's desperate grip. The cold side of his face was hit, hard or soft it didn't matter; he fell back to the ground.

"STOP SAYING THAT!"

In houses miles away a child sat upright in her bed and wondered if her mother was screaming at her father once more. She felt her skin tingle with fear, and grabbed her stuffed toy between small fingers.

In a park before the house around the hill with one tree, Deidara broke the promise he made to himself while running through the streets. He doubled over and couldn't see the sky from the floor with the tears glistening in his eyes. The words Itachi said were pulling the fragments of flesh from his bones and placing a hand in his heart to slowly squeeze. Deidara tried to stand, and fell; the words kept him still. Itachi watched and tried to remember the emotion that was being displayed.

_"Goodbye, Kisame" Itachi choked, and closed the door._

Yes, he remembered it now, but feeling it was something entirely different.

Suddenly, a hand tangled through his hair, another clasped around his neck firmly. The eldest of the two couldn't breathe but he didn't struggle. So what if he was to die, he thought. The hand moved from his hair, curled into a fist and broke the beauty of Itachi Uchiha in half. His attacker straddled him roughly and hit the other side of his face, smashing his skull into the ground once more.

Deidara didn't fight him out of anger, or out of the bruise that swelled upon his face like a desert flower. He beat his brother to blisters because he wanted to shake the dead look out of his eyes. A crunch under his fist made him shiver, pulling his hand to his face the youngest saw stray black hairs stuck underneath his nails with the colour of rouge.

Itachi bled and bruised and didn't care in the slightest. The pain was inevitable, but was something that he could feel. His brothers had found the sense to disown him, and he couldn't care if he wanted to. The man he loved was nothing anymore, and for once he wished he could cry about it. There was only a thick chill running through his veins, he trembled from the cold but Deidara thought it was from the blood dripping from his nose. Nimble fingertips trailed over bloodstains and darted away quickly, replaced by Deidara's shirt trying to scrub the wounds away. His sobs of realisation and the bruises over Itachi's eyes was killing him, slowly but surely.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry. Say something Itachi, _say something! Please_!"

Itachi focused upon his brother by law, eyes unable to focus on his face. His vision was almost tinted red, was it his eyes being mischievous or the blood staining them? He opened his mouth, but struggled with the words, his tongue was slack from the rough treatment. The words he spoke were damp with saliva and blood.

"Just go home, Deidara"

He thought he was going to get punched, hit or beaten within the inches he had left in his life. His words would surely fuel a rage that would not rest until he returned to normal, which was even harder than dying. Deidara's teeth were pulled into an angry snarl and the hand that he placed over Itachi's eyes was surely to provide relief for the other.

This was death, so ironic.

Now, there was only darkness, nothing but the stench of ash to give him a sense of direction. The broken man couldn't tell if he was dead or not. If he was dead Kisame would die too, he predicted with the way they made love. There was something there, and what would happen to something? Can something simply be nothing? Itachi couldn't tell if he cared if Kisame was dying or not, he wanted to say he cared but lying was a sin enough. A soft material brushed against his jaw, like the friction of his mother's satin gloves against his rosy cheek. The metaphor didn't even hurt to think now, it was simply a term of speech. The soft texture of his cheek was joined, the feeling travelled down to his lips and slipped in between them. There was a wet texture, both on his cracked lips and a small droplet dripping down his own cheek that couldn't have been the blood. It took several seconds of logical thinking to realize Deidara was kissing him, placing a tongue between his lips and letting his tears fall upon blood stained skin.

"Deidara-"

The named man shushed his brother by law, the rush of air from the sound drying the blood upon Itachi's chin. The blonde kissed his lips so soft it felt ghostly, as if they were scared he would break in their hands. They probed at his gums, but only slightly; almost shyly. Itachi recognized the feeling Deidara felt, of course he did. The feeling of desire, rolled into a body and given a name of love that spreads such snarky lies. He had felt it, tried to take it but ended up empty handed. Kisame had given him the feeling, it had been Utopia for when it lasted. Now, all he felt was the cold he felt like had always been there. Without the sugar coating, everything tasted of ash.

Deidara moaned in a longing fashion, placing a hand on a porcelain cheek to keep himself from falling too deep into his fantasy.

Had Deidara hesitated because of their relation by law? No, the artist was virtually hand in hand with anarchy. It was because of something deeper Itachi thought as the lips returned onto his own.

With one twitch of his bottom lip, the Uchiha responded to the kiss. He didn't know why, it was simply instinct. Only slightly, not even to a full extent; but Deidara felt such a movement. The tears that ran down his face were not of happiness, but of so many fantasies of this moment combining to create this memory. As an artist, he called it a release. The younger of the two crawled into the other's lap, slowly grinding against his appendage and whispering meaningful nothings into Itachi's ear. In the park with no children, two brothers by only law kissed with tongues and didn't know where the path was.

When Deidara pulled away, he wore a deep crimson blush even visible in the dim light. His heart thudded harder than a ritual drum and felt as if the blood soaking through was draining through his chest. He bit his lip, readjusted his fringe, fiddling with both laces before finally looking reality in the face. Reality was beautiful, reality was what Deidara had fallen in love with years ago. Reality was a man with long black hair and big eyes that were unintentionally curious. Reality was Itachi Uchiha, a man who really was quite the opposite of realism. Itachi was a pole in the ground that the artists held onto while the blizzard blew away everything he knew. He was cold hearted and unforgiving, but true and pure. He was on the other side of the wall, and Deidara thought he would be reaching forever, until now.

"Please, leave with me" he pleaded and pecked Itachi on the mouth again, and again, until small butterfly kisses travelled over bloodied skin to his neck.

Itachi stared at the proposition, looking away to see Tokyo peeking out from the treetops along with the rising of the sun; had it been so long since he had been wearing shoes? The birds began to sing and the people began to wake, to live another day, and then another, and another after that. Tokyo was the most beautiful city in the world he had once called it, what a stupid thing to say. He'd been a hotel room, wondering how his client had not been able to see such beauty. Kisame would've laughed if he told him, he was sure. And what if he left? There would be no Mr. Hoshigaki and no grave to visit. His chain would be loosened but not broken. Deidara would walk and he would have to follow, did he really want that? Even looking at that sunrise reminded Itachi of Kisame, with such smooth skin. Could he simply leave? Kisame Hoshigaki was someone he had loved yesterday, and today he felt nothing towards the man. The emotional detachment he felt was worse than anything he could feel, the feeling of nothing. If he stayed with Kisame, he would understand and he would wait. Itachi shut his eyes, and opened them once more and muttered a single "Yes".

Deidara looked to his brother, eyes alight "Really?"

"I'll go with you"

A high pitched squeal escaped his mouth and he kissed Itachi with blossoming confidence. The ecstasy in his heart was almost unbearable, he released it out of his mouth in another scream of happiness.

Itachi knew Kisame would wait, but he knew he wasn't worth the time. He wet his lips and hoped he never got his sensations back, so he wouldn't feel the aftermath of what he just did. Deidara pulled him to his feet, supporting his broken weight as they left the park for the last time with two suitcases.

It had been such a sweet little park, only filled with bad memories now.

Out on the main road, a black and white taxi's engine hummed softly and beeped once when the duo walked out the entrance.

The horn was beeped and a voice called "Lady, I ain't got all day!" and the taxi drivers face twisted when he saw Itachi.

"Lady, is your friend ok?"

"He'll be fine soon!"

There was the feeling of mischief in the air, as if both brothers had gone swimming in their formal clothes in a swamp full of eels. Excitement spun with danger to create a cotton candy with spiced sweetness. Itachi could've had a butterfly net not caught a single strand of the feeling, opposing to Deidara whose whole body glowed radiantly with the sensation. He threw both suitcases in the trunk and slammed the lid down.

"Imagine father's, I mean Madara's face when he notices we're gone, un" Deidara smiled.

The boy that was an artist then held his left hand out and let his right open the door of the taxi. His smile was earnest and gentle, truthful and pure. The door was an invitation to him any lady would've taken. Warm air from the inside of the car flourished in the Midsummer Eve and circled around the Uchiha. He breathed deeply and the air pawed softly down his throat and filled him. He let his knees buckle and he sank onto his stomach upon the street, with the tar that had turned as soft as velvet. Who knew something so skull shattering could caress his body in such ways?

"I'm not waiting here all day and night!" the driver roared.

"I'm paying you, hm!"

The conversation was cut of all corners, softened and sounding tranquil. Itachi pressed closer to the ground, desperate to feel only the warmth. Deidara ignored the driver and got upon his knees, stroking his lovers back.

"Babydoll, what's wrong?"

His call seeded him out like a lighthouse in a storm. Itachi despised the name, but didn't protest. Babydoll was a combination of the innocent, engaged love, stirred with the fire lust from behind closed doors.

"Babydoll, we have to go"

Why so fast, Itachi thought. The speed of the taxi was fast enough, why must they rush? Here and only here was perfectly tranquil, it was unspoiled. Itachi could feel the hot waves from the core to the thinnest strands of his hair, it banished the cold and took him willingly. He stretched, once numb fingertips caressing the black skin that contrasted his own white. Deidara lay against Itachi, rubbing his palms on his arms to try and warm his lover; who had the texture of a glacier ledge. Deidara touch was freezing against is skin, and suddenly the warmth had become cautious and ran into the sunset to join its mother.

Once again, the cold claimed Itachi; and with a simple 'oh', he understood why.

The lips that touched his throat whispered "Itachi, taxi's waiting"

"When people try and leave. They cannot, even when they travel far. Because they are still breathing, and they are a small part of what that was, they are the baggage that we do not desire"

Silence, only the noisy exhaust dared to speak.

The lips found his neck once more "Where we're going, you can stay forever and I'll carry your baggage"

There was a split second when Itachi gazed out of the taxi's window before he escaped the sunset on four wheels. In this second, he saw the golden spears of sun and the dark shades of shadow. The windows were tinted with frost, the trees slowly loosening their arms to sway carelessly. There was not a sound, only the sound of sleep. That was until Kisame Hoshigaki stumbled out from within the shadows of an alley, the clothes upon his back burnt to the flesh. The sound was harsh, a weary body thrown against the floor. The unfortunate looked up, and stared as Itachi was. His light blue eyes widened and his mouth fell open, and began to pull into the shape of a name. Although the split second he had was over before it began. Deidara slammed the door closed and the engine hummed. Kisame's scream was silenced and unacknowledged, only Itachi could feel the presence of said cry of desperation. It should've made him pull open the door, but the Uchiha's hands remained firm in his lap. He tried to spy through the back window, but he was pulled down by tanned hands. When he managed to pull free, they had rounded the corner.

Kisame was dying, and he needed to stop the taxi. Push down upon the brakes with all his morality before flying from the car to cradle his savior once and lover twice. But no matter how much sense he knew he should've felt, Itachi only felt the craving to move ahead of time.

"Itachi, hm!" Deidara explained when he pulled Itachi from the window for the last time "What're you looking at? Did you forget something?"

"It was… never mind"

Deidara hummed, and pulled his brother closer. They were two puzzle pieces that did not fit. Deidara pressed his head closer to the thumping chest and combined with the timed melody of the traffic, he fell into a tainted slumber after muttering "I love you".

Itachi mirrored his words, lying through his teeth.

**The chapter is now complete. The next update will take some time, it will be really, really, really, really, really long I am sure because there will be some character introductions –get excited- and a lot of plot now that they are out of Japan. Please read and review, I appreciate each review like how I get overly excited when we have full cream –not long life- milk in the fridge-.**

**Thank you.**

**XXX **


	10. Foolish men

**This chapter, done.**

**I have now five weeks of high school left before I go to UNIVERSITY. I am excited. Alot of people are saying 'I am terribly scared' where as I am 'YES OUT OF THIS HELL HOLE!'.**

**As you can see I am excited.**

**I don't know what I'll do when this fanfiction is over. Any ideas?**

**I once again thank all reviews/alerts and favourites. They really do help me keep writing this. x**

**WARNING: This has a straight sexual scene and course language.**

**Enjoy. XXX**

His reflection. It had always been attractive with natural blonde hair and a single blue eyes visible. Most woman loved his skin, brushed with a darker shade than his brother. He was always requested by people who wanted something exotic, exploring their homosexual curiousity with Deidara. His reflection was beautiful, thanks to Madara. He'd helped him grow from a rotting bulb into a blooming flower. Had he always had that scar on his arm? Deidara ran his fingers over it but couldn't remember where it had came from.

The blonde washed his face and dried his cheeks with a paper towel. The bathroom was deserted, and Deidara had become Narcissus as soon as he had spotted the mirror. He'd cleaned away the ash that had covered his cheeks and hoped to wipe away the swelling of the bruise but did not succeed. Soon enough due to the isolation he stripped off his shirt and washed the sweat and blood away from his body.

His nails were still sore from scrubbing them to the bone, removing Itachi's blood from were it crawled under his skin like a bad omen.

His chest was thin and his stomach was flat. He'd always been small as a child, the others used to to tease him about it. When they'd climb over the fences and steal the forbidden apples from the orchard, he would always be the closest to coming in contact one with the pitchfork the screaming farmer swung over his head. In a sketching pad tucked away somewhere, he still has pictures of that farmer. _I wonder where it is, _he thought briefly.

"Where has the time gone?" Deidara asked himself happily. He slid his shirt back on and looked in the mirror again.

The reflection was different than his own face, he suddenly realised. There were small things that simply didn't fit in. For one, he had more scars than the picture portrayed. As a child, his face had been covered in blemishes. Surely there had to be scars of them? What about when his friend had hit him between the eyes with a shovel? There should've been a deep line at the bridge of his nose, but all that lay there was unmarked skin. Was his mind playing tricks on him, or was it time?

Deidara filled his cupped hands with water, throwing it into his hair and shaking his mane. When he looked back at himself, his hair had taken a shade darker. Why had he decided to grow it so? New beginnings deserve new bodies to carry out the deeds.

The blonde with long flowing hair pulled a pocket knife from where he had forgotten it lived and flicked out the silver blade and held it at level with his ear and over his hair. Only when the first strand was cut did he flick the blade away quickly. The stray blond hairs in the sink made him cringe.

He was attached to it.

In apology, he stroked his locks back and tamed knots with clever fingers. He could still notice the cut strand, out of all the long pieces.

It was then that he discovered the mirror couldn't reflect his past without scars to assist, only the future. He smiled when he felt the paper plane tickets in his red jacket pocket, they made a small curve on his reflection's red jacket. There were his lips -red and full from constant attention- that symbolised that nothing between him and Itachi would be the same again. Deidara thought of heated summer nights, when they would make love on a single mattress they could barely afford. One of them would have forgotten to shut the window so the freezing wind would turn Itachi's white skin into a lighter shade with gooseflesh and moonlight. Outside there would be a riot between men and authorities in a game of cops and robbers. Even with such negative attributes, their love would be all they needed. And when Itachi took in a breath of air and let it back out in the shape of Deidara's name as he orgasmed, then the most beautiful art will be shown.

He felt himself stir from the thoughts and he muttered "That'll be true art, un"

Any other man in the toilets wouldn't have idea what Deidara was speaking of, or why he wore the grin that dropped so suddenly when he remembered where he gained that scar upon his arm.

xxx

_Another strike of the clock, another hour it must've been. How many hours had he been slumped over the loveseat absent apart from himself and Kurotsuchi? How long had he been fingering her absent mindedly as if he simply completed a crossword? The laughing around him was absurd and beautiful, it was almost art. It only he could capture the sound, like a small child captures a butterfly in a jam jar, then he would have something nobody else had. It would be the gust of wind that pushes the feather and begins the reaction he desired._

_"The bigger the reaction, the smaller the stimulus to start with"_

_"You'd have to smash the glass, you can't keep a butterfly or it'll lose its spark"_

_"Oh, Deidara! Faster, please!"_

_Had he been talking aloud? He'd been sure he had not, but his lips were misleading. They smothered Kurotsuchi at the moment. She moaned like she was in pain, and Deidara wondered if she was; maybe deep down she really was hurting. Her pain was art; everything was art! Every woman, man and child had an aspect that _was_ art, all it needed was to be made. Then, after the crowd sees it, a split second and it's gone like the last rays of sun midst the blackened sky of night. _

_That was true beauty. A second of hysteria, like the orgasm she rode out upon his fingers. It was something that could be seen again, but never how it had been. _

_"Deidara. Do you love me?" she panted, and Deidara noticed that her eyes were like windows. The 'love' was holding each other in a room full of strangers, too scared to let go of each other in case they simply crumbled to dust outside their small world. She was the true definition of nothing and everything in the same sentence. _

_"Deidara?"_

_That word even, his name, would never be said with the same heartbroken tone. She had said his name a million times over, sometimes with a hiss and others with an arch of her back. Each was different and never to be seen again, taken by time and trapped in the jar the butterfly had escaped from._

_"Deidara, answer me!"_

_There she went again, throwing art away as if it were a paper doll. He couldn't even remember the question, simply the inspiration he would forget when the smoke settled from the roof of the room. With her cheeks slowly going red and her frowning against eyes that crinkled with tears she looked utterly enraged, with the irony that he still had three fingers up inside her. Out of the growth of ego, Deidara began splitting his sides with laughter. Kurotsuchi's face fell. The tears she had been holding dripped shamelessly down her face._

_She had had a feeling he was going say that. Not even saying, simply showing he didn't love her._

_So many years, so many times, wasted on a man too warped by his own creations. _

_With an almighty shove Deidara was pushed off the loveseat, with his hand ripped away from under her skirt. He let out a confused laugh and held his arms up in confusion. She glared down at him and let her blunt nails dig into her skin, the pain almost absent from the rage she was experiencing._

_Thinking of how stupid she'd been, wearing this blindfold she thought was truth. _

_"What the Hell, un?" Deidara cried out, advancing on Kurotsuchi again but her heeled foot slamming him down once more. He stood up and backed away, unable to see his flaw._

_"GET OUT!" she shrieked, and pushed him towards the door "GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!"_

_As he was pushed out the door the archway's sharp edges sliced across Deidara's arm and blood began to roll. _

_In a party full of strangers nobody followed, simply laughed at the entertainment._

_At midnight, Deidara fell on his own doormat in the central region of Japan with blood staining his shirt. He had thought that a place with such abstract ways could be his portal to expression, but had only been a dead end in which a flood followed his heels. Kurotsuchi stood over her ex lover, tears filled with cosmetics falling onto Deidara's face. Her dignity was lost along with her panties that were down to her ankles. The place she once lived was filled with faceless people that had raped her environment with something as simple as spilling wine on the carpet. Her short black hair was messed around and her light white eyes were now faced with too much truth. _

_"What the fuck, babe?" Deidara shouted, and shut his eyes and mouth when the contents of a wine glass wine was thrown in his face. _

_"Don't call me babe. Don't call me anything. You don't live here anymore" she spat, and Deidara felt his rage heighten to measure against hers._

_"You can't just kick me out!" he screamed, and got onto two feet "You're nothing without me! I'm all the light and you're all the darkness, un! Without me, you're a husk"_

_She knew she would remember the last sentence for the rest of her life. _

_"You're just a man who thinks they have the gift of art. You don't love anymore"_

_Deidara spat at her feet, walking down the hallway and leaving only his blood trail, turning once more while grinning to add "I never did in the first place"_

_Kurotsuchi fell to her knees and began to cry. _

xxx

_Oh, that's were it came from. _He thought and wondered how long thoughts of Kurotsuchi had been in exile. She hadn't entered his mind since Madara had found him, homeless on the street behind a brothel. Now, in a place where an empty spot was, something deeper grew: a thing called doubt.

"Itachi loves me" Deidara assured himself, and opened the bathroom door. He looked back at his reflection and muttered "He really does"

Itachi sat where he had been placed, staring at his feet now covered by shoes. He looked more like a child than he ever did when he was young. The emptiness inside him was present by the look in his eyes.

Deidara foolishly assumed it was sadness.

The suitcases Deidara had packed were pulled open, with objects tossed aside to seek out one object. A small jar was grasped between his fingers, loosely without a knowledge of what was really inside. The label was written in Japanese but Deidara instantly recognized it. Out of everything he'd packed in his rushed hysteria, it had been the first thing he'd grabbed.

"Itachi, un!" the blonde cried as he quickly gathered all the clothes littered around Itachi like an ocean of colour. He felt like he was taming a disobedient child. This wasn't how he imagined his Itachi to be. The Uchiha remained silent, almost unable to talk. Deidara placed a hand on his cheek; it felt cold. He pulled off his jacket and placed it around his brother's shoulders, rubbing his arms through the leather.

"Babydoll, you can't open our suitcases in the middle of the airport, un" Deidara said in a serious tone but couldn't resist to laugh at the end "Haven't you ever been traveling before?" Itachi looked up.

"You brought it"

Deidara instantly knew the connection and softly replied "Yer, un"

"Thank you" Itachi didn't mean it. The jar meant nothing to him anymore, even if his brother was in there. It was just a thing between his fingers, like his own life.

"Sorry about the clothes" he muttered. Deidara pulled him over into his arms, breathing in the scent of his air still present under the heavy stench of death. The airport was filled with people, saying goodbye and greeting hello. Some had tears of happiness while others of sadness. An old couple would see their daughter again in three days while a girlfriend would never see her boyfriend again. It was unusual but true the fact that the most love stored in a place was an airport.

Nobody cared that two boys that looked like girls embraced, covered in black and walking into the darkness with a single torch to guide them. Deidara held Itachi's hand to pull him closer. His words ignited when he muttered "I can't wait to get you alone" and began licking the skin he could reach. His hands fell by Itachi's hips and caressed the skin there while Itachi remained still.

"I love you too much" the lovesick boy whispered in his ear before kissing the lobe. He waited desperately for Itachi to reply.

"Yes, me too"

Deidara frowned and grasped his lover tighter, hanging onto the words for his life.

**Reviews?**

**Thank you for being so patient with me. xxx**

**Happy days!**


	11. Missing men

**Hello there my faithful readers, my ladies and gentlemen who tune in for another segment. I am so so so so so so so sorry for this long gap between this and the last chapter. Although this is the longest chapter so far, bordering along 13 pages. **

**Here is… chapter 11? I have had trouble knowing if this was chapter eleven or twelve. I have been avoiding Kisame's sector for a while, because writing it is extremely difficult and each time I approached the keyboard I left hot and flustered thinking 'I'll never be able to write this!'. **

**This chapter isn't rated M, I don't think. And just to add, thank you PaperBows for giving such an amazing review that inspired me to get my shit together and write this damn chapter!**

**Enjoy. XXX**

There is a thing named the seven stages of grieving, and is what it implies itself to be. Seven steps towards the place in the stairwell where the light shined brightest. We ask ourselves if there is a more direct route, like simply climbing over the banister. Must we all mourn in the same way? We also display the query that some do not want to be cured, as their suffering leaves room for feeling itself to occur, and for the lost soul to be forever remembered rather than cast aside into the unknown darkness of the afterlife.

XXX

A silhouette burst through the veil of red and orange, collapsing on the floor gasping for a breath of air to purify his smoky lungs. He trembled madly, from not only the burns and blisters but the abrupt cold that seemed to freeze his skin. Hoshigaki tried to stand on two feet, but fell on the first try. Small flames still clung to his jacket, dissolving to nothing when they saw that the fun was over. Kisame could taste nothing but the stench of the smoke, burning the decomposed bodies to ash.

Itachi had been right: this had been the way out.

Without knowledge he ran; blind in the clouds of smoke that laced the suburban area as he followed only a misjudged instinct. Kisame could feel his legs, slowing to instinctly turn him around and run back into the flames. He cursed himself continiously as he ran, calling himself the coward he'd never been before.

He could've been in the fire, it wouldn't have been hard. All it took were some precise steps in the other direction. Although, deep down...

He stopped and looked back the way he came, paranoia biting at the walls of his stomach. The sick sensation travelled to his head and caused the woozy feeling to spread until he leaned upon a ledge before he toppled down. The trail ahead held hope, and a safe Itachi without burns upon his skin. Going behind, he knew he would vomit; just thinking about what lay back. The choice was enough to drive him mad.

Soon enough, he began running forward.

_Itachi wasn't in that fire. I searched and there was nothing, he must've been saved or never in there in the first place. _His running thoughts caused his legs to tremble underneath him and it seemed his whole body was against itself. The sick feeling passed, but its memory remained. It was trapped upon the path towards the fire where...

He had always been in love with Itachi. It seemed ridiculous that he'd ever denied the accusation. The maze of streets he'd mapped this way through before were a mess of lines and shapes in eyes that had been lensed with misty vision. He fell on his knees as the sun peeked from behind the smoke drawn curtain and tasted the sensation of blood from his newly busted lip. Drugged by his mellowed hysteria Kisame crawled on all fours to lean against the brick wall, trying to stand. His lover's name was stuck on his tongue, he croaked it much like a record that continuously looped.

_If I keep muttering, he'll come. Like a Shepard and its flock. He's not dead, he _can't _be. Am I just trying to convince myself?_

The man's legs were as heavy as lead and only persisted in weighing him down.

Kisame would've considered chopping them off if he had a knife, or even a pair of scissors. He would drag himself through the streets until he found Itachi; curled up in a bus shelter snoring softly and as safe as he wished he would be. Either that or he'd arrive at the scene where a body bag was filled with the ashy remains of the man with many masks.

"Itachi" he whispered and tried to move. He hoped Itachi would do the same for him if he was missing. Saying that Itachi definitely would was unknown with a man so cold, even if he loved Kisame.

A dark sensation crept up from the deepest depths of himself, engulfing him in a place away from the world were the only tragedy was his own existence.

He recalled Itachi's face, his mouth, his skin. His hair that was more strong than soft. Had his eyes really been so rouge? And to think, he hadn't seen him smile: yet.

"Damnit" he swore "Get up" yet all he did was fall to the floor. The tar was warm against his cheek, the fire's heat travelling down roads even this far away. The sensation could've lulled him to sleep and took his consciousness.

"Get up, for fuck's sake! Itachi! Get up and find him!" he hissed, and with one mighty step leaped out into the sun. The area was filled with white light, as first he believed himself to be dead until he saw a black and white taxi with a smoking exhaust. There was the slam of a door and his eyes were drawn to the back window. A white face stared at him, free from expression.

Itachi.

_Itachi, Itachi's alive!_

For a moment where his prince was going was unimportant and the simple knowledge of his existence lit a fire in Kisame's mind.

If only that interpretation could've lasted for longer.

Kisame began to slur out his name but the taxi was gone before he could finish.

At first he thought Itachi was being taken by a monster whose claws would rip him to ribbons, but it didn't seem right here. Something appeared almost... willing? The taxi didn't stop, even when the pool of blood that formed under him was visible.

They didn't care, not in the slightest.

"Itachi… " he whispered again, finally resting upon the soft road.

He lay sprawled in the middle of the street like a dead man would, both arms outstretched with his bad knee twisted uncomfortably. His suit was covered with holes from air born umbers, small blisters forming on blue skin. To others, the taxi would only be a figment of his imagination, given life by the smoke that clouded his sense of reason.

XXX

Only when the sky roared with the volume of ten lions did the rain hammer upon Tokyo and wake Mr. Hoshigaki from his deathly slumber. He gasped for breath, slamming his body forward to look down at his wounded legs. Kisame greedily stole the air to fill his black lungs. He tried establishing reality from the memory of what he desired to have happened. The ash that stained his skin fell along with the rain, and danced in circles with the watered down blood. Slowly, the wounded man let his blistered fingertips feel across his face and hair, seeking out the places that had been scarred. There was a cluster of hair that had been burnt to his scalp and his fingers were stained red when he touched his ear. Smoky lenses still remained over his eyes, made hazier by the veil of water that had fallen like a drape over a banister. All in all, there was an overall sense of pain that seemed impossible to heighten, yet he was proved otherwise as the knowledge of Itachi Uchiha -who didn't stop the taxi, even when he was dying- slowly began the erosion of all he knew.

All this pain and Itachi hadn't stopped the taxi, hadn't even made a move to. Did he even care?

Kisame relived his past as he walked through the streets that bathed in the wet dawn. It wasn't the first time he'd walked down the streets with the reaper slowly catching up to his slow pace; it used to be a regular occurrence. He would've spat a comment at another man's back, with them turning and wearing a look that would make the devil shudder. Although he'd been young, and only demanded that his opponent tries to even lay a scar upon his body.

They always did. Always.

He'd been left in an alley, with laughter slowly fading along with the amount of blood flowing from his bleeding wounds. The cuts would always heal, and most scars were simply there. He'd hobble back to wherever he came from, with a redhead with skilled fingers placing antiseptic on all his wounds and muttering how stupid he really was.

He pulled out his phone, numb to the rain and its effect upon electronics. The time was 4:01 AM. Going through his contacts, he scrolled through the letter I and couldn't help but know Itachi Uchiha should have been there. If he had been there, things would have turned out so differently. He'd be in a bed for two filled by a duo that pressed against each other and moaned uncontrollably. He'd cause the Uchiha to scream and challenge the lightning with the volume. After they'd released their pent lust, Itachi would hold onto his tinted blue skin as if afraid to let go and Kisame would pat his head full of black horse like hair. He would wonder how something so small as a smile could make him want to scream sonnets to civilization.

**That **was how it was supposed to be.

"God, why didn't I get his number?" he yelled with the bottled rage, and threw his phone through the storm in a sense of hysteria. He heard it smash somewhere to his left and began walking in a twisted circle the way a trapped animal would. It would bare its teeth and sharpen its fangs when the only threat was itself.

He grabbed his hair that had started to grow over his eyes and began walking in the direction the taxi had gone but stopped. It was long gone and there was no way of finding it again. What was there to do, with the knowledge that Itachi didn't hesitate but leave when Kisame -the man he'd shared a tear and his body with, something so small but so impactful- was injured? The younger man should've bolted out the door, foolishly leaving a moving vehicle and fallen to his lovers side. He would have stroked his head where the blood was at its least, cooing sweet sympathy while the ambulance arrived.

_Why has everything gone so wrong? _Kisame asked himself, wishing he knew the answer.

He turned to the sky and then began walking back whatever way he came. There was nothing here to stay for: Itachi was gone. He was gone and he'd left a bullet hole between Kisame's eyes that tripped him in circles while he tried to decipher what he could've done to make Itachi Uchiha hate him so. Had it been his cockiness when he had given the man his address? Was it the meeting itself, and its contents that both men knew it would've held. Or was it...

"Damn it!" Kisame moaned, and knew he must have scared the boy off with the three dreaded words of I love you. Three stupid words he'd let fall from his mouth when he reached what he believed was the peak. That must've been it. How could he have been _so_ **stupid**?

The rain suddenly turned deafening and he was feebly stumbling through the veil with his hands over his head. He considered himself stupid, but knew Itachi Uchiha had been – and was- the most brilliant mistake of his life.

XXX

There was silence. Beautiful, undisturbed silence complimented by the rain. People slept so soundly, buried deeper in their dreams than they'd ever be in reality. The voices and cars from the early workers were almost muted; _as if the world had been trapped in a paper bag_, Kisame thought. His heavy steps were reduced just to keep the tranquility stable. The hall held home to many doors, one being room 478. As he walked, a dark stain from his shoe was left behind him. Soon there was a trail to follow the man from where he stumbled in front of room 457 and regained his composure at 469. Small speckles of blood stained the crème carpet. His breath came out in hard gasps. He fumbled for the key lodged deep in his pocket, the task seeming impossible with his large cumbersome fingers. Before entering the room Hoshigaki touched the wood of the door, remembering when he had been standing upon the other side, waiting for a mysterious nymph to return. It felt as if it happened years ago, had it only been a month at the least? The memory felt so far away, like a distant island that shone upon the horizon.

The door opened slowly, and lonesome feeling did not leave his side. There was no-one waiting for him, but then again, there never was and never had been. The blinds were still open, with a thick sheet of rain flooding the streets and proving a challenge for those with only a newspaper as cover. He avoided looking at the spot where Itachi had stood.

The towels from the night before were thrown in a pile amongst a small plinth of garments. The glass was placed on the arm of his chair, only hours ago he had been swishing the contents wondering what Itachi will have placed upon his skin that he could take off with equal happiness. There was a dark shadow flown across the complex that caused Kisame to keep the lights off. Sighing slowly, he pulled off his dress pants and boxers and stumbled to the kitchen to find salt.

_Salt water heals wounds, _he thought with minor understanding as he picked up a small white salt shaker _I'll just bathe in some and I'll be fine._

_But then what?_

His own mind left him intimidated. The question was blatant but something he had wished to avoid. _What __**would **__happen? Can I simply keep living?_

Kisame couldn't recall his habits before he met the man wearing a porcelain mask_. _His manner of speaking and his way of eating with a sense of style hadn't seemed important when Itachi had been present. They were petty things that only got into the way of his musings. He had despised consumption and did so now, but who had he been? The only thing he saw when glancing into a looking glass was his physical reflection, the husk of a man whose name was Kisame Hoshigaki. Where had he gone?

The tap hands were spun until water spurted from the spout. Steam began to dance alongside the ceiling that was painted mysterious lavender. The injured male was absent to the action of pouring the salt into the water, only coming to his senses with the saltwater scent filled his nose.

For the first time that new day he smiled softly yet the burns on his face still wept pus from the small facial gesture of small satisfaction. He'd remembered running along the beach when his tiny child feet sunk into the sand. The sun had set long ago and the tourists he despised had left to suck the colour out of the rest of New Orleans. His parents sat in armchairs, holding each other in a suggestive manner with the flames warmed their skin. He'd been innocent to the corruption of humans then. Kisame ran across the sand until he hit the first waves that reached up to the shore. It suddenly became too deep to run and had fallen face first into the water, swallowing a mouthful of seawater with his eyes open wide, mouth still fixed in a sharp grin. Once he had imagined Itachi and himself, sitting in an armchair made for one as his voice deep with the effects of liquor told his lover the tale of how he'd ran cross the sands many tides ago. It had seemed like a plausible lie to himself before everything had fallen. Kisame sighed, a sigh full of heaviness in his chest; it was not necessarily from his heartache, simply from the weight of it.

There was frost now, the weather had changed. It had gotten so cold so quick. Kisame placed his hands upon the glass and saw the frosted outline of his fingers and the swirls upon them. He remembered Itachi's own fitting in the cold spaces between.

How long ago had that been?

The gaps between his large hands were so small, how could the boy have such tiny frail fingers?

The steam slowly painted another cover upon the transparent canvas and the empty hand disappeared.

The business man clumsily stumbled into the bath, with his limbs outstretched over the edges. The water was too hot and burned him. The window, however, was open. Raindrops fell from the open cavity and over his toes and into the steaming water. The designer would lose their job over the small flaw in design, and even when it cooled the blackened soles of his feet. The water took him in an ironic cold embrace, but he didn't care. Its vines slithered through his skin and took his heart in a muscular grip. That must've been why his heart felt like it was separating in two. Itachi could lodge himself into memories and thoughts, but turning Kisame against himself, was this young man a general or war or simply the devil is disguise? How could Itachi weave so deeply into his system that pulling him out would require the strongest of strengths?

Kisame covered his face, the steam burning his watering eyes. He turned himself around with difficulty so the rain fell down his cheeks and caused him to sigh –not with sadness, simply with the weight of it all-. Once again he saw his skin, separated into light and shadow like when he'd sat a room way, naked and wondering if Itachi would ever return. This was the same thing, really, although Itachi probably wasn't coming back. Everything he considered something circled around the nymph. Everything that was something seemed to have black hair and red eyes. Even when thoughts did not concern him he would still invade.

Hoshigaki breathed deeply. It escalated until he threw his head back, chuckling softly with rain drops running down his face that he mistook for tears. The answer was so simple, it had always been the answer with Itachi. Kisame had been such a fool dreaming up descriptions to notice the real reason that he'd constantly forgotten.

He loved Itachi. More than he'd loved anyone, most probably. He kept foolishly forgetting. It almost seemed comical as he admitted it to himself once again, but he brushed away the stereotypical doe eyed interpretation of love and hacked away with good intentions until a beating heart remained in his hands. _That _was love, pure and simply feelings rather than words.

Love wasn't in the heart, or the head. It was the same instinct a fish felt to swim upstream: only to be caught between the jaws of the bear. It was simply _there_, and _that _was the trouble. If it was simply _there, _then what else could be _there?_ Kisame stopped himself before he went too far, wincing with the pain in his legs.

Some things were simply there, even without knowledge and denial of them. Itachi was supposed to be one of those things.

"I love Itachi Uchiha" he tasted the words upon his tongue along with the raindrops dripping down his nose. They were sugary with a razor sharp edge. They caused a small shock to travel through his bones.

Could he still say those words? Even when Itachi probably despised the ground he stood on. Why else would he have left him for dead? _Why in the first place, _Kisame thought, unable to avoid the topic. _Why did everything have to go so wrong? Did he even like me, or was he playing a game? _Had he simply been tied to the younger man's feet? Did Itachi care, or even remotely close to such a feeling? Was this simply a case of boredem taken out on a helpless victim? He remembered holding him when a simple tear fell down his cheek, the small body shivering from the winter that had stayed by his side. Itachi could've used him, maybe he wasn't the first and simply one of many in the line. He couldn't imagine himself in a line, of hundreds -maybe thousands- of people who were faceless to the God. _It sounds arrogent when I __**know**__that I wasn't one of many, I was special to him: I must've been. _It was all the concept of string, with Itachi holding all with each strand of black cotton upon his head.

His hair was far from feathery, it was simply and utterly animalistic. It would catch between his fingers like bits of twine as he pushed into a tight entrance with little hesitation. He remembered the texture, the smell and the way it stuck between both of them with sweat and semen. It was hard to believe that the idea had been a memory, that Itachi Uchiha -this angel made of marble stone- would even approach Kisame Hoshigaki with sexual intentions. Although each time they had made love-

"Had sex" Kisame corrected himself, who felt up in the air about most things at this present moment. It seemed everything had changed its name, with Itachi's delicate hand striking him across his face to knock some sense in him; since the only stable place he seemed to be sitting was a Wonderland where the Japanese man was his lover. How had he ever considered the prince of all after even taking a second glance in his direction? Although he could be looking at a situation more than expected, drawing senseless ideas from a simple turn of events. He could've caught a taxi home, and not recognized him.

Was this simply an overreaction from a simple taxi ride home?

Kisame shook his head grimly and wiped the drops out from his eyes.

It was far from that. He was was no way he couldn't recognize Kisame Hoshigaki, his blue skin had said it all if Itachi had not recognized the desperate gaze in his azure eyes.

The weather had looked so promising this morning. What had happened? An angel left, that's what...

_What could I have done to make him hate me so badly that he'd leave me dying on a road? I thought... _and Kisame let his thoughts trail off because saying the 'L' word to describe Itachi Uchiha was ridiculous in itself. All this time he had been strung along like a spider slowly ascending up a line of web, only to be cut off and left to fend upon the ground. The act of living didn't seem _right_, past memories of his string of one night lovers was static.

"So this is it" he whispered, and asked himsrlf how he had ever thought of it as the beginning. He wanted to bring both hands down onto the mirror and crash it to shards. He wanted to furiously shake the angel's petit body and ask why. _Why do you hate me so much! _

Yet all he seemed to be doing was wandering in circles, passing over the same thoughts and conclusions again and again and again.

Suddenly, the yearning for an old habit combined with his heartache. It sucked the living life from him and caused him to once again sit upright, with his hair now blinding him.

"I need a cigarette" he muttered, almost unaware of his voice.

It had been the first time he'd muttered those words in years. Of course, the thought had tickled him occasionally but now, here, he said it aloud with no guilt or overlaying. It was plain and simple, there was no meaningful undertone.

He just really wanted a cigarette.

So much this desire was that Kisame pulled himself from the bath with his wounds still aching, and wrapped a towel around his waist. He remembered a packet that Sasori had offered him once upon a time, when they'd had chairs facing the lap dancers while discussing topics that should've been found in a courthouse rather than a brothel. They'd always done such stupidly clever things. Taking one first, Sasori had offered the open box to Kisame. They smelt of strong lavender and fresh soil. They were dark sienna in colour with a purple ring placed where it was held. He'd taken it, of course; denying Sasori was an offence in itself. He couldn't remember for the life of him what they'd tasted like, only how easily it drew in and out of him like a knife with a blade sharpened to perfection. Itachi had that same grace, and took the metaphor of the weapon and plunged it into Kisame's heart, with the edge so sharp Hoshigaki could not feel the pain. It simply slid deep within him, taking his inner self, and drew out just as fast.

Although the after effect was raw, the feeling was not heightened. Itachi had simply stabbd him, and that is what he felt. His absence had turned into a murder trial in Kisame's head and even he knew his imagination was beginning to fly out of its cage.

Slowly, he pulled his clothes back upon his burnt body. He avoided eye contact with the window, which Itachi had looked out of before they had come together. What had he been looking at anyway? There wasn't much to see, simply Toyko. It was beautiful, but not precious. Although was it better this way? Kisame wondered which he would prefer, Itachi displeased and missing or Itachi silent and dead.

The question made him gag, leaning over the chair hoping that the stain he spat from his lips was merely saliva rather than blood. In this light, it was hard to tell.

He walked out the door, letting it slam closed. The silence was broken and the dream lifted. In any case, it didn't matter anymore. They were all heading to an apocalypse, the downward spiral to Hell when something God had placed especially was removed. Kisame looked up to the sky, a large grey palet of all the colours that had gone wrong. It reminded him of a colour that the sky would be when the last man walked earth.

XXX

He was no doubt the stupidest man in Tokyo.

Not only had he been losing blood steadily for the last hour, he had foolishly wasted four cigarettes while smoking in the rain. Kisame believed the latter was far more important.

He had walked down to the edge of the water, in a place that looked like a beach but seemed to lack the sheer spirit. He'd wanted to share his half empty pack with the memories of Itachi, staring out into the water as if there were something actually to acknowledge rather than the patterns that rain made against the abused surface.

When he finally sat down on a bench covered by a pitiful excuse for a roof he noticed a hazy figure standing upon the edge of the pier that almost moved along with the tide. They stood almost unnaturally still for the harsh wind's strength. Maybe it had been the man's sudden wooziness that caused him to stumble over to the pier, his feet catching midst the sand and causing him to fall face first.

A mesh of midnight blue caught his eye and realization hit in. It was her, the woman who'd smiled and told him the joys of being in love. She wore gym clothes and running shoes, standing on the very tip of the planks that threatened to send her barreling over into the sea. Her stupid reasoning and beautiful cleavage may not have gotten Kisame into his own disaster, but he still despised those stupid ideals.

"Konan?" he called out, surprised at the placid tone that slipped from his lips.

She didn't turn or acknowledge him. Kisame would've seen her as an apparition if it had not been for the hair, now falling in blue talons around her shoulders. Her stance was still, with a sense of lightness on her lifted arms but weights upon her bare feet. Close up, she appeared to have something missing, like dragging a soul from its shell and leaving the body to roam. When she finally turned, her golden eyes seemed to lack something… or everything. All they appeared to be were what they were, realistically. Two, pupils and irises, half lidded and looking towards something farther than she herself couldn't even see.

XXX

_Pein looked out the window, colours and shapes summoned by the alcohol still playing tricks upon him. His psychedelic eyes shined with the dizziness and he once again called to his lover in the bathroom. She was showering, and it seemed to take her so very long. Couldn't she step under the water and step back out, like all normal mortals did?_

_The party –or meeting as it had first been called- had been fun. For the first time in a long while he'd had fun, danced and enjoyed his job. There had been one thing wrong. Konan hadn't been herself, and she seemed as if the life had been ripped from her. Pein tried to remember if she was always like that when she drunk._

_He slowly progressed to change out of his suit and into a pair of black silk pajamas, tripping upon the trouser legs twice before remembering the proper procedure. Outside, the stars twinkled more than they ever had, even more than the night they had married. _

_He looked over to the bathroom door, still firmly closed._

_"Konan" he called "Konan!"_

_She didn't reply. Pein knew his spouse was probably washing her hair, with the soap suds stuck in her ears._

_Out of child's curiousity, he turned on the stereo seated upon the desk in the large bedroom. The tune was instantly familiar. _

_"Rock Lobster" he muttered under his breath, and then louder until he filled the room with lyrics from an outdated song. His limbs began to spasm into motion and a dance performed in a disco once upon a Saturday night kicked in action in Pein's body. _

_"Baby! Rock Lobster! Konan, remember this song? We used to dance to this every time it came on!" he cried out, and remembered the smell of marigold perfume that Konan had worn on their dates. It still made him hysteric with lust. They'd fucked in one of the bathrooms, and when one inquiring woman walked her face made both teenagers begin splitting their sides with laughter. Her hair had been blue since he had met her and the curls would always hit her face like serpents of a gorgon when they danced. How many dates had they spent at that club? That's how they named their company, from all those high nights with heroine, sex and the music. The club had been called Akatsuki: new dawn. Such an ideal name, he'd thought._

_Just thinking of a young, delicious woman that he now shared a bed with made his blood begin to stir. He was suddenly desperate for Konan to get out the bathroom. _

_"Konan!" he moaned like a toddler. He pulled the silk pajamas off and decided he wouldn't need them on._

_Konan sat on the toilet seat, her sobs disguised by the water of the shower. Her skin trembled even beneath her own touch. The dress was in the white plastic bag, with Konan telling herself not to look in that direction. The tears blurred her vision as she looked down to her stomach, placing a shaking hand upon the smooth skin. There was a subtle pain that sat in her womb and along her thighs, with Konan praying that it was not the seed of the bastard who'd come inside her. She knew that if there was anything that began to grow along with his essence, she'd plunge her fist into her stomach continuously until blood dripped from the womb._

XXX

She snapped back to reality with the calling of her name, yet some of her still seemed distant. She stared over her shoulder, towards the man with tinted blue skin. She couldn't help but see through him, and remind herself that she was now truly alone in a city full of people.

Kisame took a step forward and stood behind her. Something about the woman whose eyes had shone with such potential had changed.

"Oh. Kisame, right?" she asked, not pained by the fact that she sounded blatantly rude. A dull thud of hatred in her heart one could call a heartbeat didn't care for etiquettes.

"Um, yes" the other replied, and a pregnant silence fell over them both. He knew asking Konan what was wrong wouldn't amount to anything, she would brush him aside like all women did. It was in their nature to do so. He kicked the wet sand upon the dock, wondering if he should simply turn around and retreat. It seemed the better of the options, she wanted to be left alone and he wanted to smoke to Itachi's memory.

He turned, treading softly over the dock, when he turned back. The question left his lips before he could stop himself.

"I was wondering if you had Uchiha Madara's number?" he asked, hope so blatant in his tone. He cursed himself for increasing his own suffering for asking such a thing.

_Itachi hates me, you are only killing yourself further. _

Suddenly, like a cat that's hair raised upon its back, Konan's eyes widened. Her lips trembled and she stumbled back and almost off the pier. Kisame instinctively rushed forward to grab her but she backed away from his touch. She appeared threated, and almost terrified, her hands held in front of her chest.

"Why? Why would I have it? I don't know it. What did he tell you, he doesn't give his number to anyone?" she screeched. Madara had probably filmed** it** and shown other colleagues as a comedic laugh. Her tears would make them laugh harder. He promised he wouldn't destroy her, but that was lies. It was a barrel full of lies. He'd used her and was going to destroy her like children did when they got bored with dolls, tearing the limbs and then the hair strand by stand. This question was a test, or a joke. Madara wanted to know how far he needed to push her to make her fly over the cuckoo's nest.

"I know he doesn't give his number out, that's why I'm asking. There was something I needed to get from him" the business man asked, unable to interpret Konan's wild posture. Maybe the world was ending after all.

Konan let her heart slow, and a small 'oh' of realization escape her lips. Kisame would never tease her about something as cruel as rape. She'd met him twice but she knew he wasn't black hearted. She realized how insane her mind had become and raised her arms down.

"Oh… ok. I'm sorry I freaked out, it's just that he..."

"What?"

She paused, biting her lip.

"Nothing, never mind"

The rain didn't slow. It was ridiculous, almost. Japan was not a place of monsoons. Kisame remembered the packet his hand, covered in little droplets and protecting ten little cigarettes, so innocent and warm hearted. They just wanted to make people happy.

"Want a cigarette?" he asked, and offered the packet.

"No thanks..." she muttered, but stopped and actually considered the question. What harm would it do that had not already been done? "Actually yes, I would like one"

He handed her the cigarette, wary not to step over the hazardous line where Konan stood. His hands touched her fingers and she was idyllically warm. _Just like Itachi's skin. _He held his hand over the now lit cigarette until it reached her chapped and parted lips. 

"Watch out, the rain might put it out" he warned her.

"Thank you" she took an unprepared dag of the cigarette. The smoke burned her throat and she coughed heavily. She could see her lungs turning black as she breathed in another breath of smoke, slowly easing into the burning touch. "So, what are you doing here?"

_What am I doing here? _He wondered, and answered the question in his head before speaking. _What am I doing here, looking for neutral feelings towards someone who surely despises me. What am I doing here, on a dock in the middle of nowhere? What am I doing so far away from home, or New Orleans as others know it as? In all due respect, I have no idea what I am doing here, I guess I'm just a lost spirit like half of the people on this planet. _

"Enjoying life, or something along the lines of that" Kisame said, and chuckled under his breath "Yourself?"

Her golden eyes travelled down his body, looking at the dark patches that stained the thousand dollar suit.

"You're hurt?" she noticed, catching his eyes once more "are you ok?"

At first Kisame was oblivious to what she pointed at, but laughed when he remembered the wounds upon the skin.

"They're just burns, I'll be completely fine in a day or two" he smiled and rubbed the back of his head. She nodded and the empty look in her eyes was directed towards the continuous ocean.

"If you're sure..."

_There's that silence again, _Kisame thought, and wondered if _this _was his chance to leave. As he turned, Konan's querie cut through the rain and stopped him.

"You saw it too, didn't you? The kind of man he was, that look in his eyes" Konan whispered, and at first Kisame knew nothing of what she spoke, they were the words of a woman whose mind was elsewhere. Although at this point he remembered a dark night, witnessed red eyes of a different context from that he was smitten for. The pupils were deep red like the contents of a wine glass, spilt upon virgin paper with the darkest intentions: Uchiha Madara. He shuddered at the memory.

"Yes, yes I did" he said, and remembered his wandering hands along Itachi's back.

_He's not your business to tamper with. Leave the memory of Itachi behind. _

"I only met the eldest son, but there was something so different about him" she muttered, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. Kisame became nervous, peering over his shoulder at where he should've been.

_You should be saying goodbye, not thinking of __**him. **__It is what's done with those who do not exist any longer. _

His sense of reason was logical, in a way. His mind was his shield, protecting his soul and sanity.

"He had such sad eyes" she said, and he knew it as truth as everything became unfaithfully clear.

It was a choice. He had been approaching this crossroads and now he was here, still unable to choose a path to walk down. There was left, towards what he used to know and what he needed and should've wanted. This path was clear; he could see miles down this road. There were people he knew down this road, waiting for him. Down said road, he would live then die. The right path was simply a sign pointing towards the darkness that. It was the act of tossing his fear to the sticking place and following the only thing he believed. The road was dark, fading to black and he'd only need to take one step before he became a figment of nothing. Although somewhere on this path he knew Itachi was waiting, holding his chances and determining whether he was cast closer or pushed away to forever be lost, wandering in circles with a smitten sense of direction. Itachi was the reaper, the God and the only man who had a lantern. He was a sick sense of humour with a name in this imagination. Kisame wanted to fall to his knees, grasping his skull through blue hair and scream to the heavens _I just cannot decide! _There was life or death, easily displayed and hardly touched.

Alas, there was only one thing clear. Itachi hated him, and that was that. Why else would he leave him to die midst the raindrops? Walking right would only be a death wish and walking left was the liable thing to do, living and eventually dying as each man did.

But… there was Itachi, planted in his memory, a lonely tear trickling down his cheek. No-one could fake something so sad. No-one would impersonate something so tragic. That meant Itachi _was_ lonely. Itachi _was _broken. He was not this reaper of souls, rather a victim. Nobody else would see these tears but Hoshigaki and only the blue tinted man would know _how_ lonely the man was, the man who wore a mask stronger than steel.

_Behind a steel door, no-one can hear screaming, simply a soft whisper. _

"I have to go now" the man whispered, oblivious to everything except the new scream that pierced through his train of thought like an arrow. It was a scream that only he could hear and comfort. "Do you know where the two sons of Madara have gone?"

"They fled to Paris, away from him I suppose. I hope he spares them"

Konan didn't appear distressed, she simply nodded her head with her full lips remaining in a frown.

"I'm sorry. I hope whatever you're waiting for comes" Kisame added, finally walking away from the dock on which the young woman stood.

"I doubt it will..." she whispered so only the closest waves could hear her.

"What?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it. Goodbye, Kisame" she whispered, and disappeared into the mist along the edge of the pier: waiting for something that would never exist: forgiveness.

At first his walk was brisk, strong even when he wounds said otherwise. Suddenly he found his feet gaining pace, and he was running over wet concrete back the way he came. Of course he could've tripped, wound himself onto a hospital bed, having to tie down his arms because he would scream Itachi's name and try and find him. He'd be his own protagonist, the thought was almost funny. Hoshigaki outran himself on the sandy beach from once upon a time, the bullets of rain abusing his broken skin. For a moment he saw a blurry figure, sitting upon one of the many beach chairs with the dissolving seats that had only been preserved to keep the memory of what once was. His eyes were shining ruby red through the curtain of grey. He stopped and the boy was gone. Yet the stranger had mouthed something, soft enough to sweeten by a look that tasted bitter. Had he said stop? Maybe this was the devil inside the shark, or just his common sense. It had begun to get hard to tell what reality was and what was not. It all seemed to fit now, with memories and imaginings combining to create one big picture.

Paris. He'd been there more than once, as a business man that was no surprise. The language was not his best but he knew somewhere in his luggage was a French dictionary, coated with dust; Sasori had always been brilliant at the elegant tongue of the French, so much that he hadn't needed the blasted thing until now. Unless… unless he dove into unknown waters and called the redhead and asked to meet him in the flesh. It was a daring move, particularly for someone whose patience was thinner than the exoskeleton of a grasshopper. _Who cares? _Kisame thought, once again feeling the smile toying at his lips and paining his already burning face, _down to Hell with it all, everything is going to burn. _And for once, the feeling of knowing was greater than intoxication. It toyed amongst his veins as he finally placed a fingertip upon the place where Itachi stood and muttered the words 'found you'.

_What if he wants to be alone?_

There he was, the reimagining of Itachi, whispering in his ear as he botled past a couple that cried out in surprise. Kisame could practically feel the hot organ of Itachi's non-existant tongue run over his lobe and dip into the shell as the man spoke.

"Nobody wants to be alone..." Hoshigaki whispered under his breath "... in a world full of people"

He pressed on further, squinting to desperately try and seek out a main road; _when there's a main road there are taxis _he told himself.

_No good ever came from kicking a hornet's nest. _

There it was again, pesky and... partially true. Was that why he batted away the whisper like a fly buzzing in circles atop his head?

"If I kick the hornet's nest and get stung, it's what I deserve"

He cried out in joy as a stream of cars appeared on the road ahead and sped up. The man he glided past looked dumb shocked.

_What if he hates you?_

It was only when he flew into the back seat of the taxi, barking out an address did he realize that he had a small amount of change on him, not enough to even take him down the street. Grasping the coins tight between his palm and fingers, he decided to think about the consequences when he got there: for both situations.

**I am sorry, so very sorry. I haven't written in so long, but here it is, and the next chapter will be here sooner rather than later, I hope. **

**Read and Review please, you readers motivate me!**

**XXX**


	12. Absent men

**Uchiha heir 12, I can't believe we've gotten so far. Yes, us. You reviewers out there, reading this useless before note from a writer have given me so much and made me force myself into the chair and write until out of my hands and head comes something that nobody has ever written.**

**I'm getting tense just thinking about how I'll feel on the very last chapter. Plus, if you're wondering, yes I have the end chapter planned. Hold onto your hats, because it'll be a storm. :D**

**Kishimoto, why you kill Kisame Hoshigaki and no resurrect him? O-O**

**WARNING: In this chapter there will be offensive language, implied scenes of sexual intercourse between two men, drinking, smoking and an unholy use of salt and pepper shakers. Offended, then I am surprised you have gotten this far my friend.**

**I don't own Naruto.**

"I like this..." Itachi breathed to himself, letting another taxi of different colour carry him away to the next destination. He hardly cared where he travelled now, the journey itself held more promise and enjoyment than any steady surface. The potholes and stones littering the black tar street were notes of a string harp lullaby that swayed Itachi back and forth on the leather seat. He was in a state of semi consciousness, eyes barely open but still able to discussing certain things in his head with a mellowed perception. He felt like a ghost of some sort, drifting aimlessly until the world itself ended; carrying no kind of love or vendetta. Itachi could be his own person, without people, float through the worlds' problems and simply... forget.

"What do you like, Itachi?"

It had been the first time on their travels that Deidara had called him by his name rather than a pet name. Itachi hadn't realized he'd been awake. Before he could pretend to be asleep, a hand fell over his eyes and a voice whispered softly "Go to sleep, Babydoll. I'll watch over you".

He slept upon the detested named that followed him to his dreamless snooze.

XXX

Deidara was now asleep, he was sure. No man could stay away through all plane and taxi rides. The way his head was lolled forward and the slack sensation of the hand of his cheek were also tell-tale signs. Itachi pushed the tanned hand away, slowly sitting up and watching the lights pass by the fogged window with increasing speed. With the quick pace, they turned from yellow orbs to streaking colours that raced one another through the black sky. He followed the lines with his fingers, creating stripes upon the glass. Some of the lines were red, blue and even green. It was a masquerade of hues that licked the dark beyond fearlessly.

It was now that Itachi began wondering with no real intention about Kisame, now that the name 'Babydoll' would not deafen him with smitten sweetness. It had been days, days that Hoshigaki could've spent beneath the ground, dead from blood loss. He could be dead, it made Itachi feel the slightest pinch of remorse and hurt, although hardly enough for him to finish prodding at the matter like a child who's come across a new and equally fascinating food. The sensation itself came as a surprise, with the Uchiha determined to find more of it. How had he ended up that way, so close to death? Those cuts on his body must have been deep. Nothing else could draw blood so easily. The blood had ran so freely into the loose seams of his suit and down his hands and knees, catching in his inky hair against a burnt ear-

It was then Itachi had a sudden 'click', that occurred when a large piece fell from the sky and into its designated place of the puzzle of life.

Kisame had been in the fire. Helping people escape? No, he must have been looking for a certain someone, someone who meant more than their own life to the man: Itachi knew it was himself. He ran into the flames without any consent for himself. He must have known it was Orochimaru's doing, somehow he must have known Itachi would have been in there. And somehow things turned out like this, tragically. He could be dead now. It made Itachi let out a small 'oh' that could've been mistaken for the winds whistling chimes. It was the sound of a small slip-up, expressing a blunder for the worst mistake of all: killing the man he loved, or used to. He has no recollection of how to feel, there was still a deep mist where anything had been. It was hard to see without the light that had gone out for good with the fire. Had it been put out, or was it still raging somewhere midst the unknown?

Itachi laid his head back on Deidara's lap, yet sleep had been taken from him and replaced with a bout of insomnia. He wanted to lose himself in the lights, be wished away from the small voice that pleaded he turn around and find Kisame Hoshigaki in the streets he'd once loved like he'd been so fond of that man. The voice was small; he could trample over it like a bug. Yet, he didn't.

On the glass of the window, the coloured lines began to weep droplets of perspiration.

XXX

The rest of the journey was a blur of hands and taxi seats. He came to standing on the footpath, looking up at a building just as the sun was slowly setting, finally having reached their destination. What stood in front of him was a middle class hotel, reaching towards the twilight skies with a slate roof. The building supported many windows, through the silhouettes of lovers and fighters danced across the net curtains. Green paint coated metal ivory that curled the occasional spiral staircase seen and followed the unsteady elevator up the building. The structure was clearly overrun with sin. It spilled from the door accompanied by a damp odor, like scrolls amany tumbling from a pigeon hole.

A pair of warm hands entwined with his own. His grasp loosened as the other mans tightened. Deidara smelled of leather and of pristine clean. He'd been stopped many times in the airport. It caused Itachi to internally question his past reputation. Maybe if the curiousity overcame him, he would ask, but he doubted it would come to that. Nothing seemed to get the better of him now. All that he ever felt had fallen from his eyes onto burning pavement once upon a time, a day he couldn't even remember now. He was more like a corpse nowadays, rather than a ghost. He was all still there, physically. However, the rest seemed to have left, and nobody would accept that fact until he had disappeared all together. It seemed a tedious journey for a man who just wanted freedom from mourners. He wished those who cried would wear colour and dance until the sun set, letting him go on the wind like Itachi should've done with his true brother many years ago.

Alas, people are typically unmistakably human. They develop close relationships that eventually have to be torn thread by thread until, like all mounds of flesh and bone, they forget with wine, meat and pleasure. It was stupid, really.

"It's nice, hm?" Deidara chimed, but the uncertainty under his bubbly tone was visible. Large blue eyes flicked from one window to the next, with his ever tightening grip telling Itachi he was morbidly afraid of something. Maybe he was reliving the past, or the full force of what the two boys had done had finally caught up to him. Itachi remained silent, staring at the man who was now to call his lover as a strong hand pulled him through the entrance with no time to leave the voice behind in the taxi.

That hand seemed to tow him, rather than coax him gently as it promised to. Itachi was pulled into a room with a high ceiling, on which a large, golden and bronzing chandelier hung with cobwebs attached.

Despite the facts, the place had a certain charm to it. An abandoned love, a place where your past life was forgotten: or so Itachi hoped.

Deidara began chatting to the clerk, casually slipping his fear into a pocket somewhere. Itachi had a small sense of admiration for the man. Although he himself knew the true art of wearing a mask to hide what you really felt. He had learnt all his life and his mask was smoother than velvet. It was necessary in prostitution.

The room they were staying in was surprisingly spacious with dark green walls and patterned beige carpet. There was one double bed in the small room with beige covers and alongside it a large open window looked onto the street below. There was also a small television, large wardrobe and a bedside table or two. The small complex had been at the highest point somewhere in the structure that was reached from walking up a spiral staircase coated in the carpet green that circled a caged elevator that seemed constantly out of order. Itachi had taken his time walking up those stairs, hoping that his each step he jumped while holding onto the banister than the small voice would fall down and leave him in peace.

Alas, it was persistent.

The metal ivory peeked through the open windows and Itachi found his place on the sill after the jar had been placed onto a shelf far from an edge it could topple over.

A little bit of Sasuke, the tiny fragment of his brother he was allowed to keep. He was just a jar of dirt now. He should've tossed it to the wind ages ago. He felt no pain when he looked at the small beaker of glass now. He'd gotten use to the forgetful feeling; a sensation that seemed to make one think they had surely forgotten something. It was unusually pleasant_, _he thought and looked out towards the growing twilight and absent mindedly commented "The sunset is beautiful"

"Oh, so it is, hm" his partner replied and set down the second suitcase with a surprising slam. Itachi jumped faintly. He could feel Deidara's warm body press against him as he joined Itachi at the window. After a minute of silence he asked "What else is beautiful, may I ask, hm?" with a specific answer in mind.

The young Japanese man was fixated on the orb of fire slowly being engulfed by the darkest of nights soon to be lit up by the brightest of lights. His eyes, ever so slowly, followed it moments as it disappeared from the sky. Itachi was silent, time he spent flicking through a photo album of memories he did not feel for. Pictures were full of smiling faces he could not relate to. People gave him wondrous eyes but their morals were made of glass, thin and easy to shatter. All this space in his head was taken by time, a million times the hands of the clock spun with so many recollections. He wished he could wash the slate clean and have nothing but what was in front of him.

"The moon is beautiful. It follows the sun, two lovers that can never meet. Playgrounds are nice too, and fields of rye" Itachi spoke, reminded of a tale of his own that he wished to forget, yet could not let go of. Now was not the time to let it go, not just yet. Soon Kisame would be sent into the darkness in the back of his mind. A place where amnesia took rein and Sasuke was soon to be turned to shards of dust.

"Hm" the artist commented, and walked over to the suitcases.

"_What is beautiful Deidara? Why, it is you. It is you and your locks of blonde hair that remind me of this sunset. Your eyes also remind me of the sky, like how the sky reminds me of you. However, the prettiest thing of them all is your heart. If it were a human, people would weep at its beauty" _

Deidara had thought of this conversation, expected Itachi to speak these words to him while his eyes lulled him into a trance. All he received was blatant facts.

_Itachi is stressed, he lost Sasuke. Of course he is acting cold, it is silly of me to ask him such questions, hm. He loves me; he is just the kind that cannot express it through words. Of course Itachi loves me, he said so himself. He doesn't hate me because of the bruises. He loves me, deep down. He said so himself. He just needs my love and time. _

Itachi's face had been cleaned, sometime or another. His cheek was swollen and grazes blushed over both cheekbones. One eye was rimmed with purple, unnoticeable in the overcoming shadows of the setting day. He still looked a treat, simply not as fragile as he did. But Deidara had let the bruise on his own cheek blemish; he pressed it harder and harder each time he saw Itachi's mournful eyes looking at him. The pain reminded him of how selfish and cruel he had been and taught him never to do such a thing again. Alas… Itachi was still asleep, awake to reality and emotions but only just. All he wanted was to see a smile he had experienced, such a smile on the face of Itachi would out of place but equally spectacular. Alas, with each desire came patience, having to wait for the flowers to bloom and the sun to set. If he took Sasuke's ashes crammed in that tiny jar and threw it with all his might would Itachi wake up? Would it push the hand on the clock? He shuddered at the idea, but deep down he knew wanted to.

"Itachi?"

He turned.

"What do you want to do tonight?"

"I would rather stay inside, I am quite tired. Do not let me stop you, though"

Their first night in Paris and Deidara was staying inside to sleep, how _joyful. _But if it was what Itachi wanted…

"I will stay here with you, hm" he muttered, yet the words didn't seem to taste well to the blonde. There was something missing, the spice that burnt his gums or the sugar that sent a shudder travelling through him. It was something he wished for, something he _craved._ The last time he had been to Paris was with his girlfriend, Kurotsuchi. They had fucked every night. However hard he tried to remember her face, it was blank. She'd been a stupid fling, unlike Itachi. 

"Only if you want to, I will only be sleeping" Itachi said, preoccupied with the street below him. There were so many people, all so tiny who lived their own lives and appeared as dolls to the man above him. Is that how God remarked human kind, a colony of ants or a simple dolls house he toyed with when bored? The view was so much different to Japan, so much different to the room that was supposed to change his life. He believed the sun rose and set in a way that that room was completely illuminated. The Japanese man pushed the hair falling in his face behind his ears, Deidara watching the gesture inquisitively.

The artist knew what he wanted, and the animal that roamed in his being whimpered and begged to be released to bask in the full moon and howl a mighty yowl. He asked his brother in law if he would like a beverage to send him to sleep, with Itachi remarking that he was fine and once again focusing on the street below, looking as blank as a white canvas would.

Then again, all canvases were like that before Deidara threw his whole being at them in the form of colour, line and shape to create something truly unique and striking. Maybe Itachi would wake up if they…

Deidara looked at Itachi, placed on the window sill with one leg perched on the ledge and the other hanging perfectly. His black ocean of hair was tied behind his shoulder, and Deidara desired to rip the dam down and let the waves of midnight sky tumble over his shoulders. He wanted to see the hair stuck to sweat slicked skin and to see each and every hair as he shook his head. But he had to give Itachi time, it was time he needed.

"Hm" he mumbled, and began busying himself with his suitcase that did not need unpacking. A thin droplet of perspiration rested upon his eyebrow that he tried to shake off.

Had it really been so long since he had had a willing sexual experience, or was it the essence of Itachi burning in the room and driving his libido into a sense of hysteria?

First he grabbed a pair of bundled socks, two ends sticking out the top to make it look like a rabbit.

_The fingers trailed down his body, nails drawing shapes that did not exist onto his navel with a delicate bluntness. They were replaced by a hungry tongue, lapping at the skin so desperately that spoke mute words to Deidara. Their eyes locked, and letting him spy out every dash and spot of lust in his eyes darker than his hair, Itachi crawled down south. _

He fumbled for the next item blindly, tossing the socks carelessly behind him. Next was a tightly bound bouquet of worn paintbrushes.

_They kissed. His mouth was open with his tongue running alongside the bottom of his, a small bubble of saliva gathering in the corner of their passion. His lips were terribly soft, he thought of them wrapped around his member and bucked upwards. Deidara never knew Itachi was such a tease._

Trembling slightly and changing his seating to bring his legs up to his chest, the sweat fell from the blonde's brow fell down onto legal papers from long ago that were creased and dog eared.

"_What do you want me to do?"_

"_Fuck me, Deidara. Fuck me senseless. Come inside me so I can feel you deeper and faster! Oh God, Deidara! Ah, harder!"_

_Deidara never knew Itachi was so flexible and able to spread his legs so wide. The view of his leaking penis was spurring every thrust, pushing him closer to his orgasm that would be followed by many more. He grabbed the boy's ankles and gasped when the muscles around his cock tightened and a gasping moan along with a ribbon of silver came from the respected Uchiha. _

"Deidara"

"Hm?" he was pulled from his fantasies. Itachi stared at him, his face once again unreadable and carved by the Gods. He could hammer at it with a chisel made of diamond and never get but a crack in the perfect face. He was a book with no words, a picture with no description or name. He was the definition of beauty bordering on monster, as what was not understood was usually feared.

_His eyes were screwed shut, mouth open wide when he screamed and cheeks tainted red with a quaint blush. _

"I am going to bed" he hummed, and stood up from the window sill, letting his thighs become of show to the man on the floor with an erection he had spurred with his own convincing nature. He swiftly moved over to Itachi, placing a forceful hand next to his delicate crown and stopping his line of movement. Itachi looked up to him, once again vacant. Deidara fooled himself that this act would wake the beautiful creature from its peaceful slumber. He let his lips fall to his cheek, planting a gentle kiss before placing another at the bridge of his noise. The Uchiha's eyes remained on him.

"Don't sleep… just yet, hm" Deidara growled, and let a trembling hand make its way behind the material of the dressing gown. The colour of the sleeping garment was the lightest of greens, the colour that is seen when looking through sea glass held up to the sun. It shaded his skin perfectly, kept it shielded from men whose eyes were like cameras.

Finally, his lips touched those of his brothers, brushing ever so gently and asking for an entry. Itachi saw no point in denying. The blonde's kisses were soft, but desperate. It felt like being bitten by a creature so tame, maybe a butterfly? Already his hands wandered, spreading his love's legs and moving between them to try and please the grim faced boy. He panted his lover's name, becoming ever more insistent and shoving his tongue between the two. Itachi's legs tightened around his waist, petite toes clenching and an unwanted feeling of arousal came over him. If they had sex –which seemed ever more likely by each lengthened they spent sharing tongue and skin-, the threads which Deidara stitched into him would only get tighter. Admitting that he did not love him would become harder to do, and damage him in the process. His past self only loved one.

As a hand found his lower regions, he gasped. Deidara grinned like a Cheshire cat and let his hand toy further, convinced that stupid mask Itachi had worn had been smashed by human desire.

He knew not the different between human emotion and human instinct.

"Itachi…" he giggled and licked a long trail from his chest to the base of his chin. From outside, there was a wolf whistle. Finally noticing that people outside the window and a certain large man who seemed enthralled in their acts, Deidara raised his middle finger at them before picking up the small geisha. He kissed him deeply and guided them both to the bed.

The blonde would protect his geisha from huffing men like that, men that acted like pigs. Little did he know that he was one of those who stood from afar, never to truly see the doll for what he truly was.

Once placed on the bed, Itachi arched his back to rid himself of a pesky cramp and let his partner embrace him again. Suddenly, Deidara placed his lips over a certain **bite** and sucked. A hiss of pain escaped Itachi. He squirmed hopelessly and swallowed his soreness. It felt as if his neck were set alight, like a tombstone. The memory of Kisame was being sucked from him, ripped from him and replaced with idyllic love given by a man who knew nothing of him, who only saw the portrait but not the pain. It was physical aching from teeth biting into his flesh. Even when he struggled, Deidara's grasp only became tighter.

His clothes were being ripped from his corpse. He felt the libido inside him slowly shrivel until he requested Deidara to turn the lights off. Deidara, not liking the change but complying, shut the curtains and killed the lights before asking "That better?"

"Yes" he whispered, before the lips found his flesh again.

"Ha… I _love_ you, 'Tachi!"

"Same…"

XXX

Itachi had never truly noticed the after effect of an empty cup of tea. The small granules of remaining leaves would coat the bottom of the teacup and create a pattern; what some people liked to call another's future. You could see where the cup had been filled to by the large rim inside the top of the delicate piece of porcelain. Only a few lonesome drops of sweetened tea brewed at the bottom, along with several slowly dissolving sugar grains. His fingers held the red teacup and he was reluctant to let go of when it finally emptied. The steam had twisted and curved in the early morning air like the essence of the place crawling from its den to roam in the impenetrable sun. Its future was a fury of soap suds, destroying the small beauty not many truly saw in such a simple item. He finally placed the white mug down, and starred out the window. Behind him, Deidara lay in rest, perfectly bronzed skin cut into shapes by the shadows. There was a distinct snoring coming from the sleeping man. The woken man finally placed the empty cup down by his feet.

Not even sleep would bring him the mercy he needed from this terrible exhaustion. It was exhaustion from life itself. He didn't love Deidara, and he cared not when he soon found out this fact. Deidara had fallen in love with the shell, rather than the snail. The intricate detail of the swirls and spirals hypnotized the young, naïve artist and lulled him into a world of fantasy. Soon another prettier shell would wash upon the shore and Deidara would move on faster than he moved it. It was expected, and not debated. It was easier that way. When he saw that the only cover the Uchiha wore now was his own empty face, he would fade into foreground.

Sasuke was ashes, and that was that. He was a bottle of ashes that he needed to dispose of very soon. Madara was his uncle, one that had no belief in incest or rape. His parents were a picture on the page, small details of unimportance about their habits and laughs slipping away into non existence. No-one mattered, not really. Apathy caused his need to escape, to live alone on a hillside with a small garden. Such a dream was possible in France. The young heir's bank account surely had not yet been cancelled, he could break the locks upon his cage whenever he saw fit. Yet he remained trapped, unbothered by the small space: simply too exhausted to move.

The sky was turning a shade of blue that reminded him of a dead man. If he believed in God, he would've said a prayer to be polite. The shade was not too light, and was beautifully spun within the nights midnight sky like silk. Kisame's skin had had the same texture, he remembered the sensation that it had upon his when he first ran his fingertips over it; shivers of delight had ran down his back like spiders.

Although he was surely dead now with his skin a ghostly pale and cold temperature. Yet, Itachi thought, his skin would still be shaded blue, and would still feel incredibly soft. Yet with Kisame gone, it would simply be cloth? The thought once again stung him, numbly yet enough to cause him to gulp silently. What would his tombstone look like? Would it be large and cumbersome like he had been? Would he be buried in Asian soil or flown back to America? He realized distantly that he had never asked Kisame in which part of America he had been born. His accent was surely American, and he was (had been) a man on business who travelled regularly. Could he have been born in New York or New Jersey? Los Angeles or Las Vegas? Had he even been born in said continent? Did he have a home? Did he family he cared for? Itachi believed he would never know.

He closed the curtains, with the sky being caught mercilessly within a white net of curtains. He basked in the dimness with naked truth on his skin he could fully accept, but tried to ignore.

The feeling he'd once felt for Kisame –the beautiful bloom that blossumed from the dirty ashes of his heart- had felt as it had grown. He'd felt truly alive. The world had felt so soft under his fingertips and almost as if it were the one need in care instead of him. When the feeling came back, would that sentiment return?

Itachi looked down at the last drops of tea, gulping them quickly and leaving down at the empty teacup. He wondered how long it had been empty for: in more ways than one.

"Hey Babydoll"

Deidara had woken to an angel sitting on the windowsill, looking absent. The absent –almost pained- expression on his face made the blonde wince. Itachi directed his eyes from the empty bottom and answered with a polite greeting. He stood from his place and neatly fished yesterday's clothes from the suitcases.

"I'm going to go for a walk, I am feeling quite woozy" Itachi murmured, heading to the door when Deidara asked with an uncertain tone "Was last night good, I mean, did you like it?"

The younger man was a child when it came to reading a human. It was almost comical. The silence between them could have been addressed as awkward, with one man knowing the answers while the other stumbled without them. The Uchiha turned.

"It was fine, Deidara" he said releasing a small and completely transparent smile. He reached to the bed and let his hand trail over the tanned hand underneath his. The gesture made Deidara smile hopefully. Small actions can resurrect even the most lost of unturned lips.

"I'll be back soon"

Itachi closed the door just as the three words of desire left Deidara's lips quickly "I love you-", yet the wooden surface and the rapid pace kept them locked within the room. The smile dropped like a coin from a rich man's palm. Deidara hugged the blankets closer to his exposed self, feeling the dark shadows that shared the bed with him; taking the space his lover should've.

"Itachi, hm…" he muttered.

XXX

It was scorching. Surely it was never meant to be this hot in the city of dreams, unless said dream was a mirage of a simple oasis. The foreign man was never meant for such heat; he seemed to melt under the sun and let his apparent lover guide him through the crowd of sight seekers and lost souls. The black locks tied behind him plastered to his spine like tar. Even in these teashades, Itachi could not look up to the sun for fear of going blind. The black shirt that fell from his shoulders limply and the skeletal denim jeans Deidara had lent him were not an exception to the rule of temperature. He looked instead at the river Seine, a beautiful glittering ribbon of water that stretched as far as the Uchiha dared to look.

"I'll take you to every corner of Paris, hm! You will have seen every street and alley in the next two days! But first, we have to meet an old of mine who helped us get over here, hm. Then, we can do whatever we want, okay?"

"That is fine"

Deidara promised this with a sense of excitement, feeling the freedom of the open air made him boast about mindless objects. Yet without Madara, the space was endless for two men whose confinements had been so very small. Possibilities and new chance flew in flocks, bright in colour and almost hypnotizing against the unnaturally blue sky. Deidara was hooked from the very first peek through the unlocked window and was sure to flutter out, hands linked with his lover like children to Neverland.

They had walked into alleyways and through streets that held home to markets that were drenched in thick perfumes and colours deeper than black. An addictive tune was always playing; somewhere from within the cobblestones that caused the puppets and toys in the windows of magically jump from their perches and mesmerize the children. Animals whose lives would end with a butcher's knife sung as loud as the talk from within the cages covered in straw and faeces. The whole fiasco was a little big planet, such a small world but such loud things.

The contrast between Paris and Japan was frightfully profound. The Uchiha had remained in the countries closer to home, never having dipped his toes so freely into European territory. He knew of such places, knowing titles of vintage buildings that stretched to heaven with gargoyles dancing upon their rooftops next to the bells that rung every hour with a chime that could be mistaken for a heartbeat. The smells and noises and sights were filled with such rich ingredients that he become lightheaded or it could have simply been the age old sun spiting him.

Deidara however, was hardly fazed and was chattering mindlessly about the past, with each word slipping past Itachi with relative ease. His mouth sped at a mile per hour, desperate to let each memory and picture escape his lips. Suddenly he had slipped away to haggle with a man in fluent French. What he haggled for was unknown, but by his gestures the younger man was surely winning. It gave Itachi a moment to let his mind catch up to his feet, and finally let the information of Paris pass through.

Next to him, a pen of rabbits sat in the sun, ready to die. Dirt was a strong odour in the air, yet mixed with café and consumption, it was sickening. Buried midst the initial veil, it was truly a putrid place.

An ice-cream and scarf suddenly attached to him. Deidara grinned and rested his head on the nowcovered shoulder. Itachi sent an inquisitive look to the man behind him.

"What are these for?"

"To protect you from the sun, hm; plus to make you look cuter" the artist shone and let his damp palm hold Itachi's once more. The Japanese man winced and distracted himself with the satin blue scarf now sheltering his once bare shoulders. He rubbed the material with the spare fingers not occupied by the raspberry ice-cream he had unwillingly been given. It reminded him of the countryside, but only of the farmlands that had been animated by stories told by his mother in his once wide imagination. It had the consistency of the sea's aqua locks and a familiar feeling; a texture he'd felt somewhere before upon the thigh of a blue skinned man. Biting the cold sweet in his mouth for a moment or two, he allowed his now free hand to trail the satin silk up to his cheek, with which he automatically shut his eyes and was placed back in a place called room 478. The sun shimmied its way through his closed lids and shed light on the tragedy; that the house was not a home without its occupants.

XXX

In a café called _the red sand land, _the artist laughed softly under his breath, and pulled out a pen and paper from his pocket, roughly drawing the scene in front of him. The man currently being sketched flung a look at the blonde saying he was too tired to appear sour.

"Stop drawing me" Itachi demanded softly. He skilfully caught another pink drop that slid down his fingers with a fast tongue. He still had the pesky ice-cream, not knowing where he could have put it as they sped through the roads when Deidara realized they were now frightfully late for their date with his acquaintance. The man they were meeting had not a name or face in Itachi's mind, he had however assisted the both of them to depart from their cursed land to seek refuge in Paris, in a hotel room he had reserved for them and an art deal that would apparently land them upon the right foot.

Deidara snickered once more and added "But you're so cute, hm. It's hard not to draw you. You have such a beautiful figure", and once finishing the fast sketch of curves and shapes, placed it back into his pocket and simply gazed at the lovable scene of the Uchiha heir eating a raspberry ice-cream in such weather most of it spilled over the cone and created mess. The mess was familiar to the blonde. He had seen the black haired pixie the night before with white fluid dripping down his cheeks and covering his fingers. It was a beautiful memory, one that caused the artist to blush. Deidara adored the man, adored him to death. He wished however the other man could show it as he did_. Yet the Uchiha be as cold as a rock yet inside he flows like lava_, he considered with a tangible smile. The bell hanging peacefully by the door of the café voiced its opinion that someone Deidara knew quite well had boisterously made his way into the fairly empty room and greeted old friends with high pitched squeals. As the blonde was cuddled ferociously, the sketched picture of Itachi fell from his pocket and fluttered to the ground under the table, waiting to be discovered again.

"Deidara-san! It's been ages" the guest chimed, once again seizing an opportunity to embrace his old friend. When his chestnut coloured eyes that were woven with crimson fell on the ill at ease Uchiha taming a juvenile cream based desert with a series of napkins, he looked at Deidara with a questioning glance with Deidara smiling at nodding. This drew another happy call from his lips.

"This must be Itachi-san!" he squealed, placing both hands on the Japanese man's cheeks and shaking his head softly "Well Deidara never told me you were so lovable, Itachi-san!"

Itachi remained stoic, directing his vision to count how many customers were in the café. There was a duo of girls, an older woman and a scowling man; all of whom looked rather intoxicated due to their awkward stance in the small and lonely tavern.

Suddenly, a distressed look covered the new man's face. He moved closer to Itachi and Itachi moved back further to keep the space between them. The hot gush of air on his face already made him twitch. The thumbs on his cheeks rubbed the skin experimentally and Itachi registered what had turned the sweet man dapper.

"Oh my, these are bruises! There bruises, and oh woe there are scratches too! What happened to you, Itachi-san? I hope you haven't been doing anything terrible, sempai!"

"Of course not, hm!" the blonde bellowed and startled the younger man. He slung his arms around the Japanese doll, much to the disapproving snares of the man on the next table, who buried is nose deeper into the paper he was supposedly reading. "I would never hit Itachi, hm!" and the words stung Deidara deeper than glass within the sole of his foot, because without too big excuse he _had_. He had and had done so amany time until blood ran down the cracks in his hands. There was still a reminiscence of the event under his short artist fingernails; nails on hands that held the man so lovingly. "The trip was rough on him, as he is not used to travelling, hm. But he is fine, aren't you Babydoll?"

Itachi felt like a child, ordered when and when not to speak while someone who knew nothing about him explained how he felt. He would surely get the strap if he stuttered or simply said 'no'.

"Yes, I am fine Thank you for providing us with shelter during this time, your generosity is almost absurd in this common day and age" Itachi answered, and happily moved his attention to the stained glass windows. They shone red, like rubies made from soldier's blood. They too, were not appreciated to the full extent. The entire café; a small place with many windows and one door with unseen staff and lows rooves provided Itachi with the same comfort as the hotel room once did until it was tainted by his own sperm.

"Oh, you were right Deidara-san! He is such a cutie!"

"Tobi! I told you not to say things like that in front of him, hm!"

The nameless man held his hands up in innocence and laughed nervously "Sorry Sempai, I just can't help it" and let his peppy attitude take over again before plonking down in the seat closest to Deidara and facing Itachi.

At this point the black haired man fazed out of reality, absorbed in the colours that reflected off the scarf; if shook in a certain direction, the material could've been mistaken for the ocean.

The man at the table –who had been introduced as Toby spelt with an unofficial 'I'- was far from askew when the blonde and his newly found lover and brother in law sat on chairs with one having grown his blonde hair halfway down his back and his Japanese lover completely uninterested. His personality matched his intake of sugar that was seen when after emptying five sachets of glucose into his coffee he ran to fetch some more.

"So" he said, and placed his hands together on the table that caused the napkins to stir "How are you both going?"

"Oh, we're fine. Just settling here and loving it, right Babydoll?"

The man named Tobi clapped his hands together and wore an expression of utter joy on his face, half consumed by the mask that caused Itachi to raise an eyebrow. It was misplaced and mismatched, but was still perched over the side of his forehead in a circular shape, with a large black swirl running through orange foreground. The black rimmed glasses Itachi was sure he did not need also fell under the same spontaneous category. His cropped black hair framed a round, baby face that was constantly home to a smile. His style of arty attire matched that of Deidara, and they squabbled about art and other such needless things over sweetened drinks.

"How is your life going, hm?"

"Oh, same old same old, still single and hating it. It's **so** hard to find someone that is perfect, like _the one_" with his sentence his eyes roamed over the skin Deidara bared when he tilted his shoulder "But you, Deidara-san, it seems Cupid has blessed you"

Itachi could feel the eyes of the stranger on him; his cue to once again join with reality. Deidara's fingers entwined with his under the table.

"Yes. We are both very happy about it, aren't we Babydoll?"

The man named Tobi who sat across from them smiled sweetly at the pet name. Deidara looked at him, expecting a response.

_No, _Itachi thought_. I'm not a child, more like a dog. I have no reason to rebel. I am simply there to answer, like furniture except breathing. When he flicks his wrist, I bark; flick, bark, repeat. _

"Yes, yes we are" he replied calmly. _"Woof" he barked in appreciation for the attention. _

"We're glad we moved here, away from the world. Aren't we?"

_Deidara flicked his wrist, ordering the black haired dog to bark, which it did instantly._ Itachi let his mind squander on the unimportant topic. _It was a trick any dog could learn –young or old-._

"But you must be sad to be away from your father, he seems to care about you very much" the half masked man asked, with the sombre look on his face looking completely misplaced.

"He's not all that he seems" Deidara said with much gloom, turning to his lover "right Itachi?"

_Woof._

"Woof"

"Haha, excuse me?" Tobi grinned, happy to see spontaneous satire out of the silent man. His toothy grin could be easily used to swoon. Deidara strangled on his coffee.

The eldest at the table –and commonly the most behaved- placed a delicate hand over his mouth, the ice-cream falling from his fingers and causing pink manslaughter over a coaster and several serviettes. He was surprised and equally amused at himself. Although the feeling of giddiness soon died with Deidara's concerned expression. He regained his decency from where it had fallen next to the ice-cream. How could he have let his mind wander like that? It seemed the leash was getting too long, or too short that he felt he need not remain watching reality. During such bleak times, he really needed to fasten a stone or two to his head to keep himself from drifting up towards the clouds. Maybe if he sailed high enough in his half real imagining, he'd see the wings of a blue skinned angel. Would his wings be blue too?

"Nothing, I simply had a hinge in my throat. I apologize" he murmured, wrapping the scarf tighter around his throat as if to create a choking breath. Once again he drifted as the two boys disguised as men talked about nonsense.

"Well, it seems many people are excited about your exhibition. Your art is so popular over here, everyone has been asking me about you and your next exhibition. After this showing, there will be a lot of people will to sponsor you, Deidara-san"

"I don't know what to say, hm. Thank you, Tobi, for organization all this"

Tobi blushed and batted away the compliment.

"I simply organized everything Sempai, you are the genius in this all. I cannot wait until this show! And you are the star of it all! The only problem is getting the art from all the way in Japan, to here in Paris"

"Don't fret, hm. I have a friend that will do it. I can trust him to take care of my art"

"Can it be done in a week and a half?"

"I am sure of it, hm"

"Well, that's all settled now" Tobi sung and finished the last mouthfuls of his sugared beverage with a satisfied sigh "I better be off"

As Tobi left, they also made their leave and tossed a note and coins to the table. The Euros spun in giddy circles before coming to a complete stop. The sound made Itachi want to repeat it. It was rather soothing.

With an exaggerated wave, the young artist had left the café. As soon as the bell on the door finished its chime, Deidara turned to him. He seemed to look healthier now he was out of Japan, his skin shining more gold than usual. Maybe it was the Asian weather that parched him.

"Are you sure nothing's wrong?" he cooed, and let his hand caress his lover's cheek softly. The Uchiha diverted his eyes to avoid locking eyes with the beautiful man. The blonde frowned and let his hands direct his chin to look at him. Those eyes were still cold and unknowing. He thought he'd melted the frost with the heat of their previous doings, but it simply seemed to have spread further to chill his pale skin.

"Yes"

Deidara hummed a reply, and embraced him. There was uncertainty in the kiss; a man who tried to mask his doubts with more affection. An older man a table scowled at them.

"I don't want you to keep things from me, when something is bothering you, tell me straight away!" he chimed with a smile and with a giggle, linked their hands again.

"Yes"

As the pair walked out of the café, a man walked in. He had simmered red hair and a monocle, wearing a blank mask as Itachi did. The Uchiha could spy him out of the crowd by a single glance as he had no intention of blending in. He was pulled around the corner by Deidara's insistent hand, away from the man better known as Sasori no Danna.

**Done.**

**I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I DON'T DESERVE SUCH GOOD REVIEWERS! I love you all ;-;**

**Next chapter is already half done, so let's hope it comes soon?**

**XXX**


	13. ALERT I am not dead

**Hello all. You are probably expecting a chapter here. Alas, there will not be. I am here to tell you all, all you wonderful people who have read and are still reading **_**The Uchiha Heir and the Business man **_**that this story (if you have not already realized) is on a halt/break/holiday. I have not had a second to write, or the inspiration to do so (my university is a complete trash heap for imagination. I should be doing a course in creative writing however I am not as of late). That is the main reason I am at a halt with this story: my University. The work has been furious and all my spare minutes have been spent sleeping. It is really a depressing time for me in other ways also with family and friends and other rubbish along those soppy lines. **

**THIS STORY HAS NOT BEEN CANCELLED. When my one month holiday of relaxation and catch up on writing and reading finally, finally, finally approaches I assure you my darlings, the chapters will come up. If the chapter have not been updated then impale me with stones. Once again I am saying that this will ****NOT ****remain unfinished. I have all the intention of completing this story 100%. **

**I would have posted a small notice sooner however I thought it would look odd within the chapters of intense fuck and then this. **

**Thank you for being so lovely and understanding. I hope you can wait six weeks more or less for the next chapter. I apologize and hope you enjoy the upcoming chapters of **_**The Uchiha Heir and the Business man. **_


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